(MRS.  LIONEL  S.  MARKS) 


PORTRAIT  OF  MRS.  W.  With  frontispiece. 

HARVEST  MOON. 

THE  WOLF  OF  GUBBIO:  A  Comedy  in 
Three  Acts. 

THE  SINGING  MAN. 

THE  PIPER. 

THE  BOOK  OF  THE  LITTLE  PAST.  Illus 
trated  in  color. 

THE  SINGING  LEAVES. 

MARLOWE  :  A  DRAMA. 

FORTUNE  AND  MEN'S   EYES. 

OLD  GREEK  FOLK  STORIES. 


THE  WOLF  OF  GUBBIO 


I 
I 

SI 

SI 
I 

[3 

-4  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 


The  Wolf 
of  Gubbio 


3 


BY  JOSEPHINE  PRESTON  PEABODY 

(Mr/.  Lionel  Marks') 


U9] 


£  OS  TON  and  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON   MlFFLIN  COMPANY 

UUter?ibe  prc??  Cambridge 


COPYRIGHT,   iyi3,  BY  JOSEPHINE  PEABODY  MARKS 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


Published  December  1913 

SECOND  IMPRESSION,  DECEMBER,  IQI3 

THIRD  IMPRESSION,  FEBRUARY,  IQI7 

FOURTH  IMPRESSION,  DECEMBER,  IQ22 


This  play  has  been  copyrighted  and  published 
simultaneously  in  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain. 

AH  rights  reserved,  including  rights  of  pro 
duction,  translation,  and  adaptation. 

The  acting  rights  both  professional  and  ama 
teur  are  fully  protected;  and  no  performance  may 
be  given,  except  by  special  arrangement  with  the 
author,  who  may  be  addressed  in  care  of  the 
publishers. 


TO 
LIONEL  MY  LITTLE  SON 

AND 
LIONEL  HIS  FATHER 


725C02 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 


THE  WOLF 

FRANCIS  OF  ASSISI 

BROTHER  LEO 

BROTHER  JUNIPER 

NICOLO,  the  Inn-keeper 

LUCIA,  his  daughter 

THE  BAKER 

THE  POTTER 

THE  FURRIER 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

THE  DYER 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

OLD  LUCREZIA 

BIMBO  ^ 

BIMBA  J 

Louis,  the  King  of  France 

GRILLO 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 


Children 


His  companions 


People  of  Gubbio 


Two  Thieves 


PERSONS   OF   THE    PLAY 

A  POOR  MAN,  Giuseppe       "j 

A  POOR  WOMAN,  Assunta     >  From  Foligno 

And  A  BABY  J 

THREE  DRYADS 

Other  folk  of  Gubbio. 


TIME  :  THE  DAY  BEFORE  CHRISTMAS,  700  YEAR^  AGO 
PLACE  :  ITALY  ;  IN  AND  NEAR  GUBBIO 


The  action  falls  within  the  space  of  twelve  hours. 

Act  L     —  Morning :  The  woods  on  the  mountain 
Act  II.  —  Noon  :  Gubbio 
Act  HI. —  Night:  Gubbio 


PROLOGUE 


'San  Francesco! 
San  Francesco! 
— D' Assist! 
—D'Assisi! 
—D' Assist!' 


ACT   I 


Little  Poor  Man  walked  the  world. 
(Laugh,  laugh,  my  scars  ! ) 
Hunger  and  thirst,  and  lack,  and  loss. 
Beckoned  to  him  as  stars. 


The  Wolf  oFGtibbio 


ACT  I 


SCENE  :  A  deep  pine-wood  on  the  mountain,  The 
scene  is  framed  right  and  left  with  two 
towering  pine-boles  like  pillars,  front,  that 
reach  out  of  sight  without  show  of  green. 
At  the  back,  a  bridle-path  crosses ;  and  the 
clearing,  centre,  shows  a  glimpse  of  the  val 
ley  far  below,  with  a  sweep  of  silver-bright 
winter  sky.  The  ground  is  strewn  with  cop- 
pery  pine-needles  and  dead  leaves ;  a  few 
patches  of  snow.  The  dense  pines  tower  out 
of  sight,  copper  and  dun,  and  laced  with  green 
ish  light,  but  few  boughs  low  enough  to  see. 
Down,  towards  the  centre,  to  the  left  of  the 
spectator,  a  gray  rock,  half-covered  with  pine- 
needles,  shelters  the  opening  of  a  low  cave. 

Out  of  the  bleak  refrain  of  the  wind  comes  the 
voice  of  THE  WOLF,  big  and  sorrowful. 


4      THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 
VOICE  OF  THE  WOLF 


HE  World  is  cold;  the  World  is 

cold. 
The  snows  are  round  us,  fold  on 

fold. 

Only  the  flocks  are  stalled  within  ; 
The  kine  are  gathered,  kith  and  kin. 

...  I  must  be  growing  old. 

[The  voice  dies  away  with  a  moan] 
[A  PINE-DRYAD  leans  down  swayingly  from 
behind  the  trees  in  the  foreground  to  the 
right.  A  second  does  likewise,  left.  Their 
auburn  hair  is  long  and  straight ;  their 
banging  drapery  is  filmy  green.  They  beckon 
each  other,  and  listen,  with  finger  on  lip. 

VOICE  OF  THE  WOLF 

Their  breath  goes  up,  from  stall  and  pen, 
Close  beside  the  homes  of  men 
Gathered  together,  down  below; 
Homes  of  the  men  of  Gubbio. 
I  have  seen  their  breath  float  up  together, 
Warm  and  white,  white  as  a  feather, — 
All  together,  against  the  cold. 

...  I  must  be  growing  old. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO      5 

FIRST  DRYAD 
Who  is  it  ?  —  Did  you  hear  ? 

SECOND  DRYAD 
.  .  .  Did  you? 

VOICE  OF  A  WooD-DovE 

\_bubblingly] 
Who?  .  .  .  Who? 

VOICE  OF  THE  WOLF 

This  old  unhappy  heart 

Does  nought  to  keep  me  warm. 

Dreams  come,  to  vex  me  in  a  swarm. 

I  can  but  crouch  and  nurse  the  smart; 

I  can  but  ail,  and  lie  apart, 

And  hide,  from  storm  to  storm. 

Watching  the  little  lights  below; 

Lights,  for  the  men  of  Gubbio ! 

The  world  is  very  old. 

—  And  I  am  cold. 

\fThe  VINE-DRYAD  appears  over  the  edge  of 
the  cliff  at  back,  reaching  her  way  with 
long  arms,  from  a  tree-top  just  visible.  She 
has  dark  hair  in  tendrils ;  and  a  garment  of 
green  and  violet.  She  listens  like  the  others. 


6      THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

SECOND  DRYAD 
Hush,  can  it  be  ? 

FIRST  DRYAD 
.  .  .  Ah,  listen, do! 

WooD-DovE 

Who?  .  .  .  Who? 

VINE-DRYAD 

Good-morning,  Beautiful!  —  And  happy  meet 
ing. 

FIRST  DRYAD 
—  Ehi,  greeting! 

SECOND  DRYAD 
—  Greeting ! 

VINE-DRYAD 

We  're  listening. 

SECOND  DRYAD 

So  am  I! 
But  who? 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO     7 

FIRST  DRYAD 

And  why? 

None  of  you  tiptoe  Vines  could  ever  guess. — 
Some  one  is  pining  of  his  loneliness ! 

PINE-DRYADS 
[laughing] 

The  Wolf— the   Wolf  it  is,  —  old    hulking 
surly  — 

VINE-DRYAD 

Only  the  Wolf?  that  woke  us  all  so  early  ? 
\JSbivering] 

Oime  !  —  O  Tramontana,  change  your  tune ;  — 

Let  it  be  June  ! 
[Joining  the  others] 

SECOND  DRYAD 

Hush!    We  may  bring  him  out,  with   all  this 
patter. 

VINE-DRYAD 

Not  we,  indeed !  And   if  we   did,  what   mat 
ter? 
He  has  no  ears  for  chatter  I 


8      THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FIRST  DRYAD 

Nor  many  teeth,  by  this,  for  punishment :  — 
Dull  wits,  and  duller  scent. 

VINE-DRYAD 

There 's  something  in  his  heart,  though,  did 
you  hear  ? 

WooD-DovE 
.  .  .  Fear  .  .  .  Fear ! 

FIRST  DRYAD 
[looking  up  in  the  frees] 
Squirrel,  what  is  it  ? 

Do  you  find  out.  Run  in,  run  in  and  visit ! 
[fbere  are  beard  and  seen  little  scurryings 
in  the  dead  leaves. 

SECOND  DRYAD 

Not  he  !  Not  he  !  He  knows  what  he  's  about. 
—  Wolf  with  a  secret ! 

VINE-DRYAD 

—  Ah,  his  heavy  heart; 

No  wonder !  He  must  stay  with  it,  you  know, 
Sulking  apart ; 

[yf  doglike  groan  from  THE  WOLF] 
Only  his  black  heart  keeping  him  awake. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    9 

FIRST  DRYAD 
For  old  times'  sake  ! 

VINE-DRYAD 

If  I  look  in  to  comfort  him? — Would  you? 

WooD-DovE 

Do  ...  Do! 

SECOND  DRYAD 

Comfort  the  Wolf?  — Ah,  hark  !  — 

That  sharpens  his  old  fangs  along  my  bark  ?  — 

A    Wolf    that    only    dreams    of    bite    and 

sup  ?  — 

That  lives  to  eat  things  up ! 
If  I  were  not  a  tree, 
What  hope  for  me? 

You  wildest  Vine,  you  runaway  romancer ! 
Creep  in  and  bring  an  answer  ! 

VINE-DRYAD 

Hey,     rabbit,     rabbit,     rabbit  !     Pretty     fel 
low, — 
Fratello,  fratelio !  .  .  . 

[She  catches  up  a  bare  from  bis  ambush~\ 


io   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Nestle  and  fret?  And  nestle?  Ah,  don't  worry! 
I  '11  let  you  go  —  no  need  of  all  this  flurry. 
Be  off,  then,  —  hurry,  hurry  ! 
[Running  and  laughing^  she  throws  him  softly 

of,  left. 
—  And  I,  with  you! 

SECOND  DRYAD 
Wait,  wait !  Perhaps  he  '11  tell. 

VINE-DRYAD 

[going  blithely] 

.  .  .  Farewell ! 
Only  a  morning  dream. 

SECOND  DRYAD 

...  A  morning  lost  1 

FIRST  DRYAD 
My  eyes  are  dim  with  frost ! 

[THE  WOLF  moans,  full  diapason.  They  stop 
and  listen,  all. 

SECOND  DRYAD 
Hush  —  hush  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    11 

FIRST  DRYAD 
Hush! 


VOICE  OF  THE  WOLF 

The  world  is  cold, 
The  world  is  dark. 
Alone  I  wait;  alone  I  hark. 
And  hear  my  own  heart  grieve: 
My  sorrow,  that  no  eyes  behold; 
My  longing,  longing,  sevenfold, 
That  no  one  would  believe,  — 
No  one  would  believe. 


FIRST  DRYAD 
Sorrow  ?    Believe ! 

VINE-DRYAD 

Believe?  Not  I !  [Going. 

•         ••••••. 

Good-bye ! 

SECOND  DRYAD 
Good-bye!  .  .  .  Believe?   Ahai,  who  could! 


12    THB    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

FIRST  DRYAD 

[ascending  to  her  free] 

Hush!    Footsteps  .  .  .  yonder  in  the  wood. 
What  if  he  hear  ? 

SECOND  DRYAD 

He  never  could  :  — 
He 's  wrapped  about  with  woes  ! 

FIRST  DRYAD 

[gleefully-] 

All,  all  alone  !  —  Misunderstood,  — 
Ailing ! 

SECOND  DRYAD 

—  Or  deaf.  Who  knows  ? 

FIRST  DRYAD 

Or  fallen  in  a  doze. 

\  \fhey  withdraw  into  their  trees  and  disappear] 
\_A  bell  sounds  softly ,  far  down  in  Gubbio. 
THE  WOLF  appears  at  the  door  of  his  cave, 
yawning. 

THE  WOLF 

W-wuff! 

\_He  lifts  his  nose  high  in  the  air] 


THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO    13 

Not  for  fire;  and  not  for  war. 
What  do  they  sound  the  great  bell  for  ? 
Warm,  .  .  .  softly,  it  calls  below. 
Calling  the  men  of  Gubbio. 

\jThe  bell  sounds  dimly] 
I  ...  that  was  master  of  all  the  Pack 
To  ail,  and  sulk  here,  —  and  look  back! 
I,  that  could  rend,  and  claw,  and  grip, — 
Sucking  my  paws,  for  fellowship ! 
Puzzling  here  in  my  ambuscade, 
What  men  are,  when  they  're  not  afraid  ! 
Worrying,  —  wondering,  how  'twould  feel 
To  sit  with  men,  and  to  share  their  meal ; 
Talking  words,  with  my  bite  and  sup 
Out  of  a  man-made,  earthen  cup  .  .  . 

[The  bell  sounds  again] 

Talking  words,  when  the  north  wind  blows, 
Round  the  fire,  .  .  .  with  nose  to  nose. 

[complacently] 

I  was  a  tempest  and  a  woe, 
Unto  the  men  of  Gubbio  .  .  . 
Only  one  thing  men  do  full  well ;  — 
How  did  they  make  .  .  .  the  bell  ? 

\A  running  is  heard  through  the  dry  leaves'] 
.  .  .  W-ufff  .  .  . 

[THE  WOLF  withdraws  his  head  into  the  cave~] 


14   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

\Enter  right,  two  children,  BIMBO  and 
BIMBA,  breathless.  They  run  stumblingly 
close  by  THE  WOLF'S  cave,  in  manifest 
terror  and  out  of  their  way. 

BiMBA 
—  Stop,  stop !    I  have  no  breath. 

PINE-DRYADS 

[softly  from  above] 

.  .  .  Away  ....  away. 
[The  children  look  up  at  trees,  but  see  no- 
thing.    BIMBO  takes  out  his  pocket-knife, 
scared  and  at  bay.  They  huddle  together, 
panting  out  their  words. 

BIMBA 
What  was  that  ?  — 

BIMBO 
Wind,  wind,  — Tramontana  !  —  Come,  run, 


run  ! 


BIMBA 
\sobbingly\ 

I  can't  run  any  more.    I  can't  run  any  more. 
No,  no!  not  if  I  saw  the  Wolf  himself  .  .  . 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    15 

I  could  n't  run  any  more!  \_A  slight  contemptu 
ous  sniff  is  heard  from  the  cave.~\  Oh,  what  was 
that  ? 

BIMBO 

[with  chattering  teeth~\ 

.  .  .  Tramontana  !  —  Ssh  !  —  They  '11  find 
us. 

BlMBA 

Oh  !  oh!  — And  she  called  us  to  find  the  baby 
.  .  .  she  begged  us  to  find  the  baby.  I  don't 
dare.  I  don't  dare  ! 

BIMBO 

We  did  n't  see  any  baby.  How  could  we  find 
any  baby  ?  What 's  that  ?  —  \A  cone  falls. 

BlMBA 

[looking  up  at  the  tree  with  a  tear-stained  smile] 
Tramontana  blew  us  something  down,  out  of 
the  pine-tree  ! 

BIMBO 

Come  on,  come  on!  ...  We'll  catch  it  at 
home  too.   Spilling  all  the  firewood.  .  .  .   Oh! 
.']   They  're  coming.  They  're  after  us  ! 


16   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 
BIMBA 

Get  under  the  leaves.  —  Get  under  the  leaves! 

And  if  he  comes  near,  we  '11  make-believe  we  're 

rabbits.  —  Get  under  the  leaves ! 

[They  burrow  head-first  under  the  leaves. 
Enter  up  right,  on  the  path,  BROTHER 
JUNI  PER,  a  simple  peasant  Friar  Minor,  — 
with  a  look  of  constant  anxiety  illumined 
by  beaming  good  will.  He  leads  a  donkey 
laden  with  faggots ;  and  he  is  followed  by 
BROTHER  LEO,  slim  and  young.  BROTHER 
JUNIPER  turns  towards  the  rustling  leaves. 
The  burrowing  children  are  wild  with 
terror. 

BIMBA 

[in  a  little  high  voice  as  he  approaches'] 
Oh,    please  .  .  .  I  'm    only  a    rabbit  .  .  . 
Oh,  Messer  Robber.  ...  It  is  n't   anything 
but  a  fox,  a  ...  a  little  fox  ...  a  lit  tie >  little 
fox! 

JUNIPER 

[calling  back  to  LEO  as  he  approaches'] 
Fra  Leo,  Fra  Leo,  —  come  here,  for  love  of 
Our  Lady  !  I  have  found  a  heap  of  leaves  that 


THE   Wo  LF    OF    GUBBIO    17 

is  bewitched;  and  calling  out,  —  how  it  is  now 
a  fox,  and  now  a  rabbit,  .  .  .  and  now,  it  is 
[BIMBA  crawls  out  gladly}  a  child,  —  a  very 
child,  a  woman-child, — as  I  am  Brother  Juniper, 
the  silly  plaything  of  the  blessed  saints  ! 

LEO 

[sweetly  to  ber~\ 

Give  thee  peace,  little  child.  Was  this  the  sor 
rowing  we  heard  ?  [BIMBO  crawls  out. 

JUNIPER 

Another !  And  is  it  a  rabbit  enchanted  you 
are,  or  a  boy  bewitched,  in  God's  name?  And 
whence  was  the  crying  ? 

BIMBA 

O  Brother  Juniper,  take  ushome, come  with  us 
—  quick,  quick  !  We  thought  you  were  Men. 

BIMBO 
Robbers  ! 

JUNIPER  and  LEO 
—  Robbers? —  [Pointing  back* 


i8    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 
BIMBA 

We  came  all  the  way  from  Gubbio  — 

BIMBO 

Gathering  wood.  Blessed  Francis  was  coming 
to  Gubbio. 

BIMBA 

—  This  day!  to  make  the  Christmas  feast  for 
us.  —  And  we  went  farther  and  farther.  And  we 
heard  a  crying  — 

BIMBO 

—  And  there  was  a  woman  — 

BIMBA 

—  Striving  with  a  man  —  and  calling  out  to 
us  to  find  the  Baby. 

BIMBO 
We  did  n't  see  any  baby.  .  .  . 

BIMBA 

—  And  we  did  n't  dare.    And  she  called  to  us 
o  .  .  how  it  was  under  a  juniper-tree. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    19 

BIMBO 

—  No,  an  olive-tree. 

BIMBA 

—  No,  a  juniper-tree.     But   we   durst  n't  — 
...  we  were  frightened.  .  .  .  We  ran  .  .  . 

[Shivering. 

[LEO  unbinds  bis  hood  and  puts  it  on  tbe 
little  girl. 

BIMBO 

Of  course  we  ran  !    And  we  must  run  home 
now.  There 's  the  way.  [Pointing  left. 

LEO 
Alas,  poor  woman!    'Twas  her  crying,  then. 

BIMBA 
Oh,  please  to  take  us  home! 

LEO 
Yea,  little  doves,  that  will  we. 

JUNIPER 

Even  to  Gubbio  we  are  all  bent  this  day,  to 
make  ready  the  birthday  feast  for  Our  Lord's 


2O   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

poor,  and  the  blessed  little  father  Francis   is 
coming  fast  the  way  of  Monte  Subasio. 

CHILDREN 

[dancing] 
Little  Poor  Man,  —  Little  Poor  Man  ! 

BIMBA 

Is  he  coming  truly? — All  this  long  way  in 
the  cold  ? — 

LEO 
Yea,  little  dove,  his  heart  will  warm  the  wind. 

BIMBO 

\_excltedly  gazing  at  the  donkey\ 
Eh!   Nicolo  never  lent  you  Pantaleone!  .  .  . 

BIMBA 

No,  it's  the  bishop's  ass!  The  bishop's  ass! 
He  sent  it  for  blessed  Francis  ! 

LEO 

But  blessed  Francis  goes  afoot,  all  through 
the  world.  Moreover,  this  being  the  Holy  Eve, 
it  ought,  as  he  says,  to  be  a  time  of  gladness  for 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    21 

Brother  Ass,  —  with  all  God's  poor,  —  and  with 
all  God's  creatures  on  two  legs,  or  three  or  four! 

JUNIPER 

\beating  his  breast  suddenly] 
Mea  culpa,  what  a  rogue  am  I  !  ...  \He 
hastens  to  the  ass  and  untackles  the  fire 
wood^  That  set  but  now  this  burden  on  my 
brother  !  Who  should  go  freely,  honorably,  .  . 
even  leaping  as  it  were  with  holy  exultation.  . 
(Light  down,  light  down,  Brother  Wood  !)  — 
Yet  this  once,  [cooing  !y  to  the  ass~\  think  it  no 
burden,  but  a  kindness,  brother,  to  take  this 
little  one  upon  you,  a  child  as  it  were,  and 
for  sake  of  the  Holy  Child  ! 

[Takes  the  wood  upon  his  back,  FRA  LEO 
helping.  They  beckon  the  children. 

LEO 

Yea,  let  us  find  the  poor  soul  that  fell  among 
thieves. 

[Turning  right\ 

BIMBO 
No,  this  way,  this  way/  / 


22    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

JUNIPER 

—  And  her  babe  that  she  left  in  jeopardy  as 
it  were.  .  .  .  This  winter  day  !  .  .  .  and  the 
wind  .  .  .  And  the  wolves  .  .  . 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 

Wolves  ! 

LEO 

Which  way  said  she  ? 

[  tfhe  children  look  at  each  other  guiltily ,  then 
point  off,  left. 

JUNIPER 
[gladly] 

The  homeward  way  ? —  Come,  we  will  search 
as  we  go! 

\¥he  Brothers  lift  BIMBA  on  the  ass,  and 
they  all  go  out,  left,  on  the  bridle-path  to 
Gubbio. 

THE  WOLF  reappears  at  the  door  of  his 
cave  and  sniffs  tentatively  in  the  direction 
pointed  out  by  the  children. 

THE  WOLF 
Hmph! 
Wanted  to  tell  .      .  but  did  n't  dare. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    23 

The  little  whelps  !  —  No  baby  there. 

\Tawns  and  shuffles  back  in  bis  cave:  lies 

down  with  bis  nose  out,  boredly. 
The  world  goes  by, 
The  world  goes  by ; 
Forgotten  in  my  lair  I  lie. 
No,  not  forgotten  ;  —  down  below, 
I  am  a  name  in  Gubbio ; 
I  am  a  dread;  though  here  apart 
I  nurse  the  thorn  that 's  in  my  heart, 
Watching  the  snows  that  melt,  and  drip  ; 
Licking  my  paws,  for  fellowship  ! 
Wondering  what  if  a  man  came  by, 
To  stand,  to  face  me,  eye  for  an  eye; 
Knifeless,  fearless  —  ? 

* What  would  he  do? 

Ah, —  such  a  man  must  be.  But  who? 

[He  yawns  prodigiously;  starts  up  and  gives 
a  low  growl ;  lies  down,  disappointed,  nose 
on  bis  paws.  His  subsiding  grunts  speak 
boredom  and  disgust. 

Bah !    The     sound  ...  of   the    smell    that 

grieves  :  — 

Hope,  betrayed  by  a  cynic  nose! 
Just  when  an  old  heart  half  believes  .  .  . 


24   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Same  old,  mouldy  odor  .  .  .  of  thieves! 
—  May  as  well  doze. 

[Enter  up,  cautiously,  VECCHIO  VECCHIO, 
a  tattered  but  unctuous  optimist,  and 
GRILLO,  lean  and  bitter,  with  a  cloak  in 
his  hands. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
Come  along,  Snail ! 

GRILLO 

Go  along,  Ox.  —  Do  you  look  to  go  shares 
on  my  takings,  Lie-Abed-Late  ?  Look  at  me ; 
he  had  the  muscle  of  a  copper-smith,  that  fel 
low.  I  have  got  a  contortion  of  the  spleen, 
pitching  him  over  the  cliff! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Gathering  cones,  were  they  ?  Sooth,  they  '11 
be  gathering  up  the  bones  of  him,  white  as  coral, 
next  spring,  when  the  snow  in  the  gorge  is 
melted.  —  Come,  what  catch,  my  limber  little 
fisherman? 

[Grasping  bis  arrn\ 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   25 

GRILLO 

Softly,  Bishop! — Andaman  of  his  size,  groan 
ing  and  cursing  about  his  wife  and  the  'Baby, 
baby,  baby!'  .  .  .  As  if  I  were  out  child-napping. 
[  'They  come  down  to  the  rock  over  THE  WOLF, 
and  cut  along  the  lining  of  the  cloak  to 
gether. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

And  the  wife,  while  I  searched  her,  scream 
ing  to  the  fowls  of  the  air  to  save  the  *  Baby, 
baby  —  baby !  *  —  And  all  the  while,  no  man  re 
quired  the  baby  .  .  .  only  this  poor  pittance, 
or  saving,  —  or  inheritance  .  .  Where  is  it, 
Sheepshead  ?  sneeze  out,  I  say ! 

GRILLO 
[with  a  wry  facey  unfolding  a  few  coins  and  a 

small  packet] 

Here  was  a  witless  woman.  With  all  her 
struggle  and  cawing  to  get  away,  yielding  up  her 
husband  to  be  thrown  off  the  mountain — and 
her  babe  mislaid  under  a  tree  she  will  never 
find  again, — she  clings  to  the  cloak;  and  we 
cling  too.  \With  disgust.]  Her  all-in-all,  —  her 


26   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

treasury !  .  .  A  little  bread,  less  cheese  .  .  .  and 
an  image  of  a  woman  and  a  baby. 
\He  hastily  crosses  himself  on  second  thought~\ 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

No  matter;  this  snack  will  stay  us.  {Sniffing 
at  it.~\  Peccorino  !  The  fourth  time  this  week. 
Bah,  —  when  we  have  but  the  coat  of  that  noble 
man  of  France  we  look  to  entertain —  [looking 
off  left  with  concentrated  purpose']  that  nobleman 
of  France  who  keeps  us  waiting,  —  we  shall  dine. 

GRILLO 

Per  Bacco  !  'T  is  a  rare  snail.  If  he  go  another 
way? 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

There  is  no  other  way,  for  a  bridle-path ! 
[¥bey  scramble  upon  THE  WOLF'S  rock, 
and  eat  their  cheese^  watching  the  path 
alertly.  VECCHIO  VECCHIO  lifts  up  the 
cloak,  snigger  ing  ly>  and  puts  it  round  his 
shoulders. 

Take  off  thine  evil  eye  from  my  rich  garment ! 
'Twas  folly  to  waste  us  on  these  small  fry,  these 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    27 

creatures  of  Poverty,  .  .  .  hee  —  hee  !  — The 
world's  failures. —  Consider  the  man  ;  —  what  a 
man  !  Base  victim  of  his  own  unthrift.  Puts  all 
his  coin  in  his  wife's  hood  and  loses  it;  ho —  ho! 
And  the  woman,  lean  victim  of  her  own  unthrift ! 
Why  did  she  not  lay  up  her  hoardings  in  store 
of  flocks  or  geese  ?  Sews  it  all  in  her  cloak 
fora  journey.  —  Wastrel,  to  journey  at  all !  Im 
provident  from  birth  !  With  a  young  babe,  for 
sooth;  flaunting  the  swaddled  creature  to  all 
the  winds! —  Mislays  it  under  a  juniper-tree, 
—  hee — hee!  A  birthday  gift  for  the  Wolf  of 
Gubbio ! 

[THE  WOLF'S  bead  appears  suddenly,  at 
the  opening  of  bis  cave.  The  thieves,  sit 
ting  above  him  vis-a-vis,  do  not  perceive  it. 
He  sniffs  long  and  earnestly  from  up  centre, 
to  the  right  as  they  talk,  and  listens  with  a 
growing  interest  evident  in  his  red  tongue 
and  side-glances. 

Go  to  ;  were  it  not  for  the  chance  of  its  waul 
ing,  I  would  seek  out  that  babe,  and  bring  it  up 
in  the  fear  of  folly  !  Ho  —  ho!  How  long  must 
we  suffer  by  this  swarm  of  babes?  How  is  the 
noble  world  shamed  by  this  spawning,  this  seeth 
ing,  this  weltering  of  ill-conditioned  babes,  like 


28    THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

.  .  .  cheese-mites;  children  of  fools; — pale  vic 
tims  of  their  own  unthrift!  But  all's  well,  or 
I  am  no  philosopher.  All 's  well :  —  I  had  it  of 
a  learned  man  I  met  .  .  on  the  road  to  Padua. 

GRILLO 

\_witb  intense  bitterness] 
f  All 's  well  ?  —  All 's  rotten :  look  at  me  ! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

[waving  bim  aside~\ 

The  woman  finds  her  way  back ;  the  better  for 
her.  —  Or,  she  finds  it  not;  the  better  for  her 
kindred. — The  man  is  free  to  carve  his  path 
way  in  the  world. —  {Flourishing  bis  knife  over 
the  cheese  I\ 

GRILLO 

\_witb  bis  mouth  full~\ 
— If  he  live  to  find  it. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

\his  eyes  rolled  up,  piously~\ 
Freed  of  his  Lawful  Encumbrance.  —  And 
what  more  notable  goad  to  valor  and  industry 
than  the  goad  of  Poverty  ? —  As  the  lord  bishop 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    29 

was  telling  you  at  Foligno,  while  you  fished 
for  his  purse  — 

GRILLO 
(Ugh!  —  my  rotten  luck.) 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

'The  goad  of  Poverty,  scourging  the  slothful 
and  pricking  on  the  poor.' 

GRILLO 
[with  venom~\ 

Poverty  ?  .  .  .  Old  Cheese,  look  at  me,  I  tell 
you,  look  at  me  ! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

I  look,   I  look,  and   I  repeat.  Wastrels  all, 

scatterlings,  —  locusts !   Fie  upon  thee  to  devour 

thy  cheese.    Put  by,  put  by,  for  a  rainy  day,  — 

while  I  eat  mine,ofachilly!  Go  to, thou  ravening 

locust !    Mark  you  this  (I  had  it  of  a  doctor  I 

met  .  .  on  the  road  to  Bologna) :  — Nothing 

will  keep  you  idlers  at  home,  save  the  fear  of  the 

Wolf  at  the  door.  Now  am  I  a  scholar  or  — 

[THE  WOLF  scents  something,  and  snaps  bis 

jaws  suddenly. 


30   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

GRILLO 

Hist !  What  was  that? 

\_He  rises  and  turns  towards  the  bridle-patb. 
THE  WOLF  listens  to  their  talk  with 
growing  animation. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Thou  mettlesome  thoroughbred  !  —  Peace, 
peace.  Benedicite  !  Requies-s-scat !  .  .  .  To 
continue: — the  babe  is  lost;  one  less  in  a 
crowded  world. 

GRILLO 

Nay,  go  on,  Bishop.  Thou  hast  left  the  babe 
with  the  Wolf  of  Gubbio.  .  .  .  Hee — hee — hee! 
The  Wolf  will  keep  him  warm 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Thou  hast  a  ribald  fancyand  a  darkened  mind. 
What  wolf,  finding  a  babe  in  the  forest  of  a 
winter  eve,  would  swallow  it  down,  without  a 
wash  of  wine?  So  to  misprize  it?  Never!  Nay, 
devour  an  orphan  babe?  He  would  fetch  the 
creature  home,  to  show  him  gratitude;  for 
why  else  does  a  man  fetch  anything  home?  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    31 

[unctuously]  but  for  something  to  love  him;  to 
be  the  prop  of  his  declining  years ! 

GRILLO 

—  Clothe  it  with  skins!  Teach  it  Wolfs 
Latin  — 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

And  bring  it  up  godly,  —  to  be  a  brown  friar, 
absolve  him  of  his  sins,  and  sing  masses  for  his 
departing  soul ! 

[THE  WOLF,  with  a  last  decisive  sniff  high 
in  airy  darts  out  noiselessly,  right. 

BOTH 

What  was  that  ?  Hist ! 

GRILLO 
'T  was  a  scantling  in  the  leaves  .  .  . 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

A  rabbit?  .  .  [Looking  up.~\  The  day's 
grown  milder.  [Listening. 

GRILLO 

Nay,  it 's  there  now.  [Pointing  left.~]  What 
if  he  be  not  alone?  .  .  .  My  rotten  luck! 


32    THE    WOLF   OF   GUBBIO 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Chut !  —  What's  a  man  or  two?  You  heard 
him  say  it  with  his  own  mouth,  in  the  court 
yard  at  Foligno, —  as  we  lay  behind  the  wall, 
.  .  .  he  would  go  without  escort?  And  his 
men-at-arms  were  to  fall  away? — Ih,ihl  An 
he  keep  us  waiting  longer  .  .  . 

\*Tbey  go  up,  to  look  down  the  bridle-path, 
and  steal  to  the  right  on  tiptoe,  lost  to 
sight  for  the  moment. 

Reenter  down,  right,  THE  WOLF  in  haste, 
with  a  bundle  like  a  swaddled  Babe  in  his 
teeth.  He  stops,  somewhat  at  a  loss,  — puts 
it  down  among  the  pine-needles,  centre, 
and  goes  up  on  the  trail  of  the  two  thieves, 
to  reconnoitre. 

THE  PINE-DRYADS  unfold  from  their  trees, 
and  lean  down,  right  and  left,  their  long 
arms  almost  touching  as  they  droop  over  the 
Baby  with  curiosity  and  cherishing  delight; 
then  watchful  looks  towards  THE  WOLF. 
Appears  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff  again,  THE 
VINE-DRYAD,  reassuring  them  with  a  ges 
ture  of  mirth  and  wonder,  pointing  to  THE 
WOLF,  who  is  watching  the  thieves  in 
their  covert. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   33 

THE  WOLF 

\turning\ 
Wuff— 

\He  wags  bis  tail  as  he  looks  at  the  Baby, 
and  then  up,  right,  THE  DRYADS  with 
draw  slowly  into  the  trees.  THE  WOLF 
runs  down,  —  noses  the  Babe  gently,  gets 
it  into  bis  teeth  again  bundle-wise,  and 
creeps  into  bis  cave. 

He  is  seen  guardant,  his  head  out,  but  with 
drawn  as  the  two  thieves  reappear,  look 
ing  back  for  their  prey.  A  soft  sound 
comes  from  the  cave. 

GRILLO 

\_startled\ 
Hist!  — 

As  I  'm  a  lean  sinner,  I  could  swear  I  heard  a 
sound,  as  it  were  of  a  babe,  —  a  swaddled  babe  ! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
[recovering  himself ] 

A  swaddled  babe !  Thou  heardst  a  sound  as 
of  a  swaddled  babe,  with  auburn  locks,  lying 
under  a  tree  that  was  planted  the  year  of  the 
death  of  King  Pepin  ! 


34   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

GRILLO 

What  was  it?  —  If  it  be  the  babe,  —  we  Ve 
missed  our  way;  we've  rounded  on  ourselves. 
We  left  the  woman  —  [Pointing  back,  right. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Peace,  dolt!  Thou  heardst  a  rabbit  calling 
thee  grandmother. 

GRILLO 

—  If  it  be  the  babe,  we  are  lost  through  its 
wauling! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

If  it  be  a  babe,  and  if  we  lag,  and  if  it 
waul,  and  if  we  be  lost,  —  we  be  lost  through 
thy  Iff-ings  and  What-ings, —  thou  beardless 
son  of  an  earth-worm.  [Both  listen,  right. 

—  Here  he  comes,  Silver-Trappings  !  here  he 
comes,  with  his  miniver  edgings.    Quick — to 
work  ! 

[They  run  with  sudden  stealth,  to  conceal 
themselves  behind  the  trees  up  right  and 
left,  with  knives  drawn. 

Hoof-beats  are  heard,  of  horses  walked  gently 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    35 

on  the  mountain-path ;  a  jingling  of  trap 
pings. 

The  watchers,  with  faces  turned  suddenly  to 
deadly  rage  and  disappointment,  steal  far 
ther  down  front  to  concealment,  looking 
back. 

GRILLO 

Death  of  my  life  !  Six  men-at-arms. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Blast  him,  —  blast  him,  the  flea  of  fortune! 
Who  and  what  is  he  ? 

[The  knights  are  seen  to  ride  along  behind 
the  pine-trees  at  back.  In  the  centre,  up, 
Louis  OF  FRANCE  reins  his  horse  and 
leans  from  the  saddle  with  boyish  eagerness. 
He  is  a  young  and  comely  man,  clothed 
with  knightly  richness,  but  bare-headed. 

Louis 

Look,  there  lies  Gubbio!  When  we  shall  come 
To  yonder  bridge,  I  go  afoot.  [To  one.~\  .  .  .  Rene, 
Have  by  the  pilgrim  robes  that  I  must  wear; 

[To  the  others'} 

And  when  we  pass  the  wall,  —  no  sign  from 
you. 


36    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Think  of  that  holy  man  I  go  to  meet, 
The  blessed  Francis  !  .  .  .  and  of  heaven's  high 
King,  — 

\¥hey  bare  their  heads] 
How  lowly  to  this  world  he  came  alone, 
A  naked  Babe.  Think  ye,  within  your  minds, 
As  we  ride  on.   For  we  be  pilgrims  all 
Together,  on  this  Birthday  of  my  Lord, 
To  keep  His  feast  with  holy  Poverty. — 
Yea,  and  to  pray,  as  men  that  be  in  need, 
The  Little  Poor  Man  for  some  blessedness, 
The  Little  Poor  Man  whom  we  go  to  seek ! 
And  when  I  shall  dismount,  then  do  you  all 
Follow  me,  at  a  distance.  .  Stay  me  not, 
Whatever  thing  it  pleasure  me  to  do. 
Ride  on,  Sirs. 
[The  riders  pass  out  left  on  the  path  to  Gubbio\ 

GRILLO 

Would  you  not  take  him  for  a  vagrom  preach 
ing  friar?  Curled  lap-dog!  He  journeys  like 
the  king  of  France  home  from  the  crusades ! 
'  Ride  on,  Sirs  ! '  And  a  pious  dog  would  I  be 
too,  if  preaching  could  line  my  coat  with  vair  and 
my  belly  with  partridge  pies  !  c  Follow  me  at  a 
distance,  gentlemen  ! ' 


\ 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   37 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Pish  !  If  they  follow  him  at  a  distance  as  he  said, 
—  we  shall  have  the  coat,  and  thevair,  with  the 
partridge  pies  to  follow  !  And  a ( little  poor  man, 
a  little  poor  man,'  he  longed  to  meet? — Ih,ih, — 
so  do  not  I!  —  Hold  thy  tongue;  and  hurry 
thy  heels.  For  we  '11  follow  him  on,  to  Gubbio. 

GRILLO 
—  Pilgrims  all,  to  Gubbio  ! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

And  mark  the  inn  that  he  lies  at.  —  Follow 
you  '  at  a  distance,'  pretty  Sir !  Follow  you  at  a 
distance ! 

[They   start   after,    with    venomous   looks, 
GRILLO  first,  who  stops  and  waves  back 
VECCHIO  VECCHIO,  cautioning. 
A  mans  voice  is  heard  singing  off,  right ; 
O  Brother  Sun  .  .  . 
All-folding  Sight ! 

[THE  WOLF,  at  the  door  of  his  cave,  starts 
up,  with  sudden  eagerness.   t 

GRILLO 
What  fool  is  this  ? 


38   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Some  wandering  simpleton  .  .  .  calling  to  all 
the  winds  to  come  and  pluck  him.  —  Pluck  him 
we  will ;  he  '11  never  cry  out !  —  I  Jm  cold. 
\*Tbey  stand  ready,  tfhe  singing  comes  nearer\ 
[THE  WOLF  trembles  with  excitement  and 
creeps  out,  watching  also. 

THE  VOICE  OF  FRANCIS 

O  Brother  Sun  ! 

All-folding  Sight, 

Lo,  where  I  sing  along  the  dust ! 

Even  a  little  one, 

Yea,  a  wayside  thing 

Sunlight  makes  to  sing,  as  he  must! 

All  we  are  minstrels  of  thy  King : 

Maker  of  thy  might, 

Pouring  from  above  :  — 

O  Light  of  Light, 

O  Love  of  Love  ! 

[Enter  ST.  FRANCIS,  shining  with  gladness. 

^he   thieves    run    to   seize  him. --THE 

WOLF  utters  a  furious  snarl. 
They  loose    ST.   FRANCIS,  and  turn  to  see 

THE  WOLF  crouching^  ready  to  spring. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    39 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO  and  GRILLO 

\rnad  with  fear\ 

The  Wolf  of  Gubbio  !  —  The  Wolf  of  Gub- 
bio!  [They  rush  out,  left\ 

[ST.  FRANCIS  stretches  out  his  arms  in  greeting^ 

FRANCIS 
.  .  .  Welcome,  Brother  Wolf! 

[THE  WOLF  still  crouching  looks  at  him. 
A  moment  of  silence. 

THE  WOLF 
Brother  .  .  .  you  called  me  ? 

FRANCIS 

Even  so. 

THE  WOLF 
And  Wolf?  — 

FRANCIS 
Yea,  .  .  .  truly. 

THE   WOLF 

Then  you  know. 
Why  are  you  not  dismayed?  .  .  . 


4-O   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 

At  thee? 
\He  spreads  his  arms  wide,  with  a  gesture 

of  sweet  mirth. 
Why  art  not  thou  .  .  .  afraid  of  me? 

THE   WOLF 
\with  nose  abased^ 

You  have  heard  them  .  .  .  Now  you  know 
All.  — '  You  heard  them  say  my  name. 
Sooth,  it  had  a  bitter  fame, 
Long  ago. 

I  am  ...  the  Wolf  of  Gubbio. 
There  is  no  more  to  say. 

FRANCIS 

Thou  he? 
Long,  —  long  have  I  looked  for  thee. 

THE  WOLF 
Fair  Sir,  have  pity  on  my  shame. 

FRANCIS 

Shame? — Then  you  shall  tell  it  me. 
Nay,  you  shall  not  be  afraid. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   41 

What  am  I  for?  —  Your  Poverello 
Out  of  Assisi,  a  low  little  fellow  ! 
These  ears  of  mine  were  only  made 
To  hear  things  sorrowful  and  sore. 

Come,  you  shall  tell  me  more. 
\He  comes  down.  THE  WOLF  stays  between 

FRANCIS  and  the  opening  to  the  lair. 

THE  WOLF 

Wolf  I  am,  from  last  to  first. 
Ah,  but  '  Wolf  is  not  the  worst. 
.  .  .  No,  I  am  accurst. 

FRANCIS 

[with  childlike  delight] 
Hearken  here ;  and  then  believe. 
Dost  thou  know,  this  Holy  Eve, 
How  the  mouth  of  Brother  Ox, 
And  the  ass,  —  and  all  the  flocks, — 
Speak  His  praise,  with  one  accord, 

Who  is  made  our  Lord? 
Lord  of  thee  and  me,  and  all ; 
Kings  that  sit  within  the  hall, — 
Lambs  that  bleat  within  the  fold ; 
Yea,  and  men  and  wolves  that  call 
In  the  cold ! 


42    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Brother,  of  thy  courtesy, 
Lay  thy  burden  here  on  me ; 
Give  me  leave  to  ease  thy  smart ; 

Shew  me  all  thy  heart. 
\_He  lifts  one  of  THE  WOLF'S  paws  in  his  bands'] 

THE  WOLF 

Oh,  what  is  it?  What  is  waking 

Here  in  my  old  hide  ? 

Sir,  my  strength  is  breaking  .  .  / 

With  my  pride. 

Is  it  the  noon-day,  maybe?  —  No, 

It  must  be  music,  ails  me  so. 

It 's  in  my  ears. —  It  warps  my  gait. 

I  ...  can't  walk  straight. 

FRANCIS 
Tell  me  thy  burden. 

THE  WOLF 
\_shamedly\ 

If  I  can. 

I  long  ...  I  long  to  be  a  Man. 
....... 

And  here  am  I,  a  Wolf,  behold! 
The  world  's  the  world. — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   43 

.    And  it  is  cold. 

And  I  am  old. 

FRANCIS 
Brother,  I  know. 

THE  WOLF 

[trying  to  recover  bis  self-possession] 
Well,  you  would  hear. —  I  told  you  so  ! 
I  never  thought,  when  life  began, 
That  one  could  wish  to  be  a  Man. 
But  —  one  by  one,  the  Pack  died  out;  — 
And  nothing  much  to  think  about, 
Grinding  your  teeth  on  one  idea; 
And  little  passing  here  .  .  . 
And  sometimes  we  can  hear  it  well, — 
When  the  wind  's  right  .  .  .  that  Bell. 

So;  I  have  told  you.  Yet,  in  spite 
Of  dreaming  on,  night  after  night, — 
I  've  always  found,  the  frosty  days 
Brought  back  my  wolfish  ways.  .  .  . 
Sometimes  a  sheep,  —  even  a  cow, 
Made  me  forget,  —  and  break  my  vow. 
Sometimes  .  .  .    [Breaks  off.~\  Wff  .  . 
Not  that  I  want  for  bite  and  sup  ! 

[Proudly] 
I   ...  couldn't  keep  it  up. 


44   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Then  after  all,  up  here  again, 
Alone  and  moping  in  my  den  .  .  . 

\_He  steals  a  guihy  look  towards  it,  and 
searches  the  face  of  ST.  FRANCIS  for  knowl 
edge;  then  turns  his  back  on  his  den  reso 
lutely  and  goes  on. 
I  longed  to  be  with  Men ; 
To  be  a  Man,  as  others  are:  — 
No,  no,  —  I  don't  mean  similar. 
I  Ve  never  seen  nor  yet  heard  tell 
Much  good  of  men,  —  but,  well, 
Maybe  some  glamour  of  romance, 
For  all  this — circumstance;  .  .  . 
\Looking  round  at  his  tail'] 
.  .  .  I  'd  simply  like  the  chance  ! 

FRANCIS 

Ah,  Brother  mine,  a  Wolf  thou  wert 
To  spread  dismay  ! 

Was  it  not  to  their  mischief  and  their  hurt 
To  come  thy  way  ? 

THE  WOLF 
[  meditating] 
Yea. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   45 

FRANCIS 
Thy  cruelties  were  more  than  men  could  say  — 

THE  WOLF 


Yea. 


FRANCIS 
To  make  of  thee,  thyself,  this  castaway. 

THE  WOLF 
[acquiescent^ 
.     .     Hm-hm. 

FRANCIS 

Ah,  dear  my  Brother,  for  this  cause 
Thy  hands  keep  on  their  savage  claws; 
And  splendor  of  thy  furry  hide 
Keeps  hot  thy  heart  of  wolfish  pride. 
Yea,  but  thine  own  heart  after  all 

Hath  made  thee  thrall: 
Keeps  thee  in  pain,  bites  in  on  thee 
With  the  sharp  tooth  of  misery. 

THE  WOLF 

,    Thou  sayest  all. 


46    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 
Yea,  Brother,  have  I  understood  ? 

THE  WOLF 
I  was  longing  ...  to  be  good. 

FRANCIS 
[bKtbtly] 

Longing  lights  the  lovely  fire ; 
Longing  brings  thee  still  no  nigher 
To  thy  heart's  desire. 
Work,  and  work ;  and  thou  shalt  know. 

Come  ! 

THE  WOLF 

.  .  .  But  where? 

FRANCIS 

To  Gubbio ! 

[THE  WOLF  starts  up  ;  then  crouches  again 
and  steals  a  furtive  look  at  his  rock  con 
sidering  whether  he  shall  tell. 

\Euoyantly\ 

Where  thy  plunders  stripped  thee  first ; 
Where  thy  teeth  have  done  their  worst. 

THE  WOLF 
Oh,  I  am  accurst,  —  accurst. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO  47 

FRANCIS 
Is  there  a  burden  left  thee,  say  ? 

THE  WOLF 
[evading  the  query} 
Let  me  be  with  thee,  for  one  day  ! 

Ask  no  more  .  .  .  Ah,  if  you  knew, 
Would  you  not  hate  me  ?  —  even  you  ! 

FRANCIS 

Hate  thee,  —  I  ?  Ah,  Brother,  see! 

And  do  thou  cry  out  on  me ; 

A  wolf,  —  a  low  and  little  one  ! 

Regard  the  evil  I  have  done :  — 

[He  points  earnestly  to  a  scrap  of  fox- skin 
sewn  upon  the  breast  of  his  habit,  and  goes 
on  with  pleading  eagerness,  while  THE 
WOLF  sniffs  up  and  down  the  patch. 

This  bit  of  fox-fur,  —  sniff  !  —  behold  ! 

And  more,  and  larger,  sewn  within, 

To  warm  my  sorry  little  skin 

Against  the  winter  cold  !  .  .  . 

When  Brother  Fox  was  found  undone, 

I,  like  a  very  heathen  Hun, 


48    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Suffered  a  portion  of  his  fur 
To  make  my  bones  the  happier ! 
Yea,  of  my  self-love,  so  I  did ; 
And  this  I  wear,  as  thou  wilt  guess 
To  show  all  men  my  wolfishness, 
And  not  to  keep  it  hid  ! 

[THE  WOLF  struggles  with  his  conscience ; 
and  encourages  himself  with  his  tail. 

FRANCIS 

To  Gubbio,  come  ! 

\_A  sound  of  running  water  begins  to  be 
heard;  sunlight  steals  through  the  tree- 
trunks  and  warms  the  sky  to  gold. 

THE  WOLF 
They  hate  me. 

FRANCIS 

Wilt  thou  earn 

A  man's  own  peace  ?  Then  work,  and  learn  ! 
Back  to  the  world ;  and  there  make  good 
All  thou  hast  dreamed  of  brotherhood. 
Hope  and  lose  and  hope  again, 
And  remember,  and  forget, 


THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO  49 

With  us  all ;  for  men  are  men, 
But  not  brothers;  —  no,  not  yet. 


THE  WOLF 

Not  brothers  yet?  Then  what 's  the  game? 
Surely  Men  were  all  the  same 

.  .  .  Till  you  came. 

FRANCIS 

In  this  twilight  of  thy  wood  !  — 

THE  WOLF 

I  was  longing  ...  to  be  good. 

[Looking  back  at  bis  den\ 

FRANCIS 

{joyously} 

Work,  with  each  of  thy  four  paws. 
Mind  thee  what  thy  teeth  and  claws  ' 
Tore  from  all  these  village-folk ;  — 
Homes  that  trembled  ;  hearts  that  brokcc 
Work,  for  those  thou  hast  beguiled ;  — 
Left  without  or  chick  or  child  ! 

[THE  WOLF  flattens  himself  suddenly} 


50   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  WOLF 
But  they  hate  me.  .  .  . 

FRANCIS 

Even  so, 
Come  again  to  Gubbio. 

THE  WOLF 
How  can  any  gladness  be  ? 

FRANCIS 

Thou  shalt  see. 

THE  WOLF 
Can  you  think,  and  still  say  Go  ? 

FRANCIS 

[smilingly'] 
Nay,  but  Come  ;  —  and  come  with  me  ! 

THE  WOLF 
[rising  giddily\ 

Why  ...  is  the  snow  .  .  .  melting  along  the 
furrows  ? 

Is  it  spring? 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   51 

Why  ...  do  the  hares  .  .  .  look  out  from 
their  hutches  and  burrows  ? 
Listening? 

FRANCIS 

Love  in   the  world  it  is,  that  makes  all  these 

Awake  and  warm  :  — 
Love  walking  in  the  world,  that  all  the  trees 

Forget  the  storm. 

THE  WOLF 

Why  are  the  vines  astir  that  were  forsaken  ? 

Can  it  be  spring? 
Why  is  the  brook  awake?  —  I  heard  it  waken. 

FRANCIS 

And  it  will  sing  ! 
[seeing  THE  WOLF  half] 
Is  there  something  left  behind  ? 
Rankling  thorn  ?  —  Or  prick  of  mind  ?  — 
Shall  we  two  believe  each  other? 

THE  WOLF 

[leaping  about  him  with  dog-like  gaiety] 
Give  the  word.   I  will  obey ! 


52    THE   WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 

Come  with  me.  —  Here  lies  the  way, 
Wolf,  my  Brother  ! 

[He  goes  radiantly  up  to  the  bridle-path  and 
looks  down  at  Gubbio.  THE  DRYADS  lean 
from  the  trees  softly :  they  point  towards 
THE  WOLF'S  den  with  accusing  looks. 

THE  WOLF,  avoiding  their  eyes ',  drags  his  tail 
and  walks  heavily  after  the  Saint  y  stopping 
for  a  last  hangdog  glance  at  the  cave  where 
the  Baby  lies  hidden.  As  FRANCIS  turns> 
he  waves  his  tail^  and  prances  after^ 
with  every  sign  of  high  spirits. 

THE  WOLF 
[looking  back\ 
Wfl  But  shall  I?— Would  he?  ...  No  ! 

FRANCIS 
[turning\ 
Pilgrims  all,  —  to  Gubbio ! 

[They  go  out  together  on  the  path  to  Gubbio ; 
a  sudden  troop  of  wild  doves  after  >  like  a 
flurry  of  snow. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   53 

The  scene  fills  with  the  sound  of  running 
water  and  new-wakening  trees,  ^be  bird- 
voices  grow  to  a  chorus. 

BIRDS 

San  Francesco  ! 
San  Francesco! 

—  U  Assist  I 

—  D'Assisi! 

—  U Assist! 


Curtain 


ACT   II 


Little  Poor  Man  smiled  at  me  ; 
His  eyes  were  like  the  sun. 
And  down  the  yearsy  like  sunlit  tears^ 
¥he  four  ing  light  did  run  ! 


ACT  II 

SCENE  :  A  market-place  in  Gubbio :  bright  after 
noon.  Right  and  left,  uniform  and  opposite 
each  other ,  are  stone  arcades  shading  the  little 
house-fronts,  with  humble  wares  hanging  out, 
and  a  few  caged  blackbirds  and  pigeons. 

Down,  left,  nearest  the  spectators,  is  THE  FUR 
RIER'S  ;  next,  THE  DYER'S.  Down,  right, 
THE  POTTER'  s  booth  and  his  wheel;  thenQLu 
LUCREZIA'S  doorway.  Front,  left  and  right, 
their  walls  turn  the  corners,  and  show  with 
ered  leaves  hanging  on  the  grape-vines,  and 
weeds  in  the  stone  crevices  of  the  walled  by 
way.  In  the  wall  to  the  left,  there  is  a  tiny 
alcove-shrine  high  up,  with  a  dim  terra-cotta 
relief  of  the  Virgin  and  Child. 

At  the  back,  a  wide  arch  crosses  the  scene,  — 
running  into  a  buttressed  wall  with  a  foun 
tain,  right.  Left,  it  joins  a  flight  of  un 
even  stone  steps,  that  lead,  after  the  manner 
of  Italian  hill-towns,  to  an  upper  street ; 
of  which  there  is  visible  only  a  glimpse  of 


58    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

blue  sky,  —  NICOLO'S  inn-door,  left,  and  a 
buttress  of  the  Duomo,  right.  The  archway 
makes  a  viaduct  over  the  market-place. 

Under  the  archway  is  a  glimpse  of  the  road, 
sprinkled  with  sun  and  shade ;  and  to  the  left, 
directly  beneath  it,  a  stable-door. 

At  rise  of  the  curtain,  the  people  are  busied  in 
their  doorways  (with  the  exception  of  Ni- 
COLO  the  inn-keeper) ;  LUCIA  and  other  girls 
are  filling  their  copper  water-jars  at  the  foun 
tain  by  the  archway. 

BROTHER  JUNIPER  comes  down  the  steps  from 
the  upper  square,  gently  leading  ASSUNTA, 
—  a  worn,  Madonna-like  young  peasant, 
poorly  clad,  spent  with  grief  and  exhaustion. 

JUNIPER 

TAKE  heart,  poor  soul,  take  heart !  .  .  . 
And  even  as  Our  Lady  came  to  her 
refuge  this  day,  riding  lowly  upon  an 
ass,  —  take  comfort  and  be  gently  led,  so.  .  . 
even  by  me  who  am  less  than  an  ass,  —  Brother 
Juniper,  a  fool  among  the  brothers. 

[The  people  hasten  towards  him  with  eager 
greetings,  and  stand  still  on  recognizing 
ASSUNTA. 


THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   59 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  GUBBIO 

'  —  Brother  Juniper,  Brother  Juniper  ! 

—  Are  you  here  at  last  ? 

—  Where  's  the  holy  Francis  ? 
— And  who  is  this? 

[ASSUNTA  takes  her  hands  from  her  eyes  and 
looks  through  them,  not  at  them,  stark 
with  grief. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

The  woman  of  Foligno,  back  again  !  —  What 
ever  befell  you? 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

—  With  your  eyes  as  great  as  an  owl's  by 
daytime,  — 

LUCIA 

— And   your  man,  where 's    he?    And  the 
babe? 

JUNIPER 

Ah,  her  man,  —  her  babe!    [Warning  themy 

with  a  gesture  of  pity.~]  A  sorry  tale  this, 
sweet  brothers  .  .  .  And  no  song  for  her  to 
sing  you.  Look  you,  the  poor  soul  is  sore  spent 


60   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

and  out  of  measure  full  of  woe;  and  beyond 
that,  oppressed,  with  singular  great  sorrow. 

\A  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  the  donkey  appears 
under  the  archway,  led  by  BROTHER  LEO, 
who  carries  the  firewood  on  bis  back,  while 
BIMBA  and  BIMBO  ride  upon  the  donkey. 
The  women  go  to  meet  them. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

f  Holy  Mother !  What  do  I  see  ?  The  children 
riding  home  on  the  lord  bishop's  ass  that  he 
sent  for  holy  Francis!  —  Oh  where  have  you 
been  ?  Where  have  you  been  ?  And  I  that  had 
forgotten  you  all  the  morning,  and  what  you 
were  sent  to  fetch  !  —  Light  down,  light  down 
off  the  lord  bishop's  ass,  —  the  two  little  wasps 
that  you  are ! 

LEO 
Have  patience,  lady. 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 

— We  lost  the  faggots! 

—  We  heard  a  thief.  — 

—  We  met  a  robber  I 


THE    Wo  LF    OF    GUBBIO    6 1 

WOMEN 
A  thief, — a  robber! 

BIMBA 
We  heard  a  loud  crying;  so  we  ran  — 

BIMBO 
But  we  turned  to  look  — 

BIMBA  and  BIMBO 
[pointing  to  ASSUNTA] 
And  it  was  she  — 

BIMBA 

—  And  an  ugly  man  after  her.  So  we  ran 
away  and  hid  from  the  noise.  And  darling 
Brother  Juniper  came  by  and  found  us ;  and 
Brother  Leo  — 

[ASSUNTA  sits  down  on  the  edge  of  the  foun 
tain  and  shuts  her  eyes,  leaning  against 
the  stone  archway,  heedless  of  the  gossips. 

JUNIPER 

Even  so,  little  sheep.  And  her  too  we  found, 
[looking  at  ASSUNTA]  coming  away  out  of  the 
woods  to  Gubbio, —  spent  and  fainting.  But 


62    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

the  babe  ...  we  sought  for,  even  in  the  place 
where  she  had  laid  it  for  safe-keeping,  under  a 
certain  tree;  the  babe  we  sought  for  ...  and 
found  not. 

[BROTHER  LEO  waters  the  ass  at  the  foun 
tain ',  regarding  ASSUNTA  with  pity. 
Enter  above  at  the  top  of  the  steps ,  NICOLO, 
a  robust  and  voluble  man  of  Gubbio. 

NICOLO 
[descending] 

—  The  bishop's  ass  ! 

[BROTHER  LEO  leads  the  ass  off  under  the 
archway ,  and  returns. 

THE  PEOPLE 
\jtill  staring  at  ASSUNTA] 

—  Found  not? 

—  Why,  then  it  is  lost ! 

—  It  may  be  stolen,  —  stolen  by  witches. 

—  Dead  of  the  cold  ! 

—  Eaten  of  wolves! 

[ASSUNTA,  hearing,  shudder s~\ 

LEO 
Ah,  Messer  Nicolo,  you  are  the  one  to  help 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    63 

us.  Take  her  in,  for  the  love  of  Our  Lady.  She 
is  perishing  of  sorrow;  —  her  man  gone,  her 
babe  — 

BIMBO 
No,  he  is  n't  the  one,  Nicolo  is  n't,  —  not  he! 

BIMBA 

—  For  she  was  telling  us  as  she  came,  how  he 
would  n't  let  them  stay  over  the  feast  of  the 
blessed  Nativity ;  for  they  had  n't  brought 
enough  money  with  them  to  last,  and  she 
could  n't  walk  all  the  way  to  Arezzo. 

NICOLO 

Ah,  you  magpies  !  What  will  you,  what  will 
you?  —  Tell  not  this  to  holy  Francis!  Was  I 
not  going,  this  hour,  this  minute,  what  you 
will,  to  lay  before  holy  Francis  all  that  I  have 
and  more? —  The  moment  I  should  behold 
him  coming  upon  the  lord  bishop's  ass  ? — As 
to  the  woman,  what  will  you  ?  Did  she  not 
come  here  three  days  back,  and  her  man 
along  with  her,  too  ?  —  A  potter,  he  said, — 
of  Foligno ! 


64   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  POTTER 

\with  rancor  unspeakable] 

Ah,  ah,  Foligno! — Foligno,  Fossato,  Spello? 
—  Pab! 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

—  And  thinking  to  come  to  Arezzo  for  the 
holy  season,  she  with  a  babe  of  days  in  her  arms  1 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  Yes,  we  all  saw  it !  What  a  thing !  Starting 
to  walk  all  the  way  to  Arezzo  with  the  babe, 
and  yet  unable.  Could  we  help  it  that  she  was 
a  weakling  ? 

NlCOLO 

—  Could  we  help  it  that  she  had  not  where 
with  to  pay  ?    Marry,  why  did  they  set  out  to 
walk,  then,  if  they  could  n't  walk  ? 

LEO 

Brother,  for  holy  Charity,  you  are  the  host 
of  this  place.  Take  her  back  to  the  inn ;  and  let 
us  search  till  we  find  .  .  .  that  which  is  lost. 

NICOLO 
But,  indeed,  Fra  Leo,  there  is  no  room  at  the 


THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   65 

inn;  no  room, whatever,  in  reason,  at  all;  no 
wise,  —  none,  none !  \With  copious  indignation^ 
Have  I  not  told  you  all?  And  did  I  not,  when 
I  sent  them  off,  tell  both  the  two  and  the  babe 
likewise  ?  And  am  I  not  telling  you  again  ?  — 
How  I  was  bidden  to  make  all  room  and  prep 
aration  for  a  great  nobleman  out  of  France,  who 
is  coming  this  day,  and  maybe  this  hour,  with 
his  six  gentlemen,  to  sup  and  to  stop  and  to  lie 
here  this  night,  and  who  can  tell  how  long  after  ? 

LUCIA 

It's  the  simple  truth  we  are  telling.  Six  gen 
tlemen  with  him.  —  I  go  to  bring  fresh  water 
now  with  my  own  hands. 

NICOLO 

We  have  no  room  for  beggars  .  .  .  Nor  for 
any  potter  from  Foligno ;  nor  for  his  wife ;  nor 
to  crown  all,  a  swaddled  creature  of  days!  waul 
ing  day  and  night !  —  For  what  else  would  it 
be  doing,  if  I  let  it  stay  by  me  ?  — 

LUCIA 

[placidly] 
—  The  simple  truth. 


66   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

LEO 

\to  ASSUNTA] 

Come,  my  Sister,  thou  shalt  not  go  away. 
Nay,  if  the  inn  be  full,  —  even  so  as  it  was 
when  Our  Lady  came  to  Bethlehem,  —  there 
shall  be  some  place  yet.  Think  no  scorn  to 
rest  thee  even  in  a  shed,  —  an  if  there  be  a 
shed  .  .  . 

NICOLO 

[with  equal  heat  pointing  up  under  the  arch] 
An  if  there  be  a  shed!  —  There  is  a  very  fine 
shed  indeed ;  warm  as  a  hay-field  and  safe  as 
the  Duomo.  And  an  ox  the  finest  in  Umbria ;  — 
he  cannot  get  his  horns  out  of  the  door  without 
goring  any  that  come  down  by  the  steps  !  Hay  ? 
—  the  finest  of  any  :  —  take  care  not  to  tread 
it  down!  And  mind  you  tell  the  holy  Francis 
this  :  —  I  make  you  free  of  the  shed,  free  as  air 
of  the  shed ;  so  long  as  you  tread  not  down  the 
hay. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

There  now,  and  it  is  a  snug  place  too,  thof 
Nicolo  says  it. 

THE  DYER 

As  for  his  donkey, — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   67 

THE  FURRIER 

—  €PantaleoneI* 

NICOLO 

—  What  of  him  ?  What  of  him  ? 

THE  DYER 

He   is   the   most   marvellous    donkey  that 
walks  without  wings ! 

NICOLO 
So  he  is !   So  he  is  ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

Eh  ?  He  cockers  and   coddles  his  great  ox 
more  than  we  do  our  chickens. 

NICOLO 

—  Or  your  children  either,  —  your  children 
either,   since   you  can't  even  keep  them   in  a 
pen  !  —  [5*0  bis  daughter.~\     Run  along   with 
you  ;  fetch  the  water  and  have  done.   I  thought 
it  had  been  the  nobleman  of  France  himself, 
when  I  looked  out  and  saw  the  lord  bishop's  ass. 

[Exit  above.  —  BROTHER  LEO  assists  As- 
SUNTA  to  rise  from  the  edge  of  the  fountain ; 
and  the  gossips  ply  her  with  questions  to 
which  she  seems  deaf. 


68    THE    WOLF   OP    GUBBIO 

THE  BAKER 

[calling] 

—  And  why,  I  ask  you,  did  your  man  leave 
you  there? 

THE  DYER 

—  And  why  did  you  try  to  walk  the  longest 
way  round  to  Arezzo? 

THE  POTTER 

— And  why  did  you  set  down  the  babe  in  the 
snow? 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 

Under  a  juniper-bush  she  laid  it — 

—  When  she  saw  the  robber  coming  — 

JUNIPER 

For  she  mistrusted  his  benignity.  She  doubted 
by  the  look  of  his  face,  how  the  oil  of  goodness 
was  wanting  in  him  ;  —  which  was  indeed  true. 

BIMBO 

—  And  her  man  was  gathering  faggots,  just 
like  us  — 

BIMBA 

— When  the  other  caught  him.  —  And  it 
might  have  been  us  !  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   69 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

*T is  so,  —  *t  is  so,  well  it  might.  Oh,  heavenly 
mercy  !  Be  off,  little  plagues.  The  worry  you 
cost  your  granddam  this  day.  You  might  have 
been  stolen  [cuffing  BIMBO],  you  might  have 
been  lost  [cuffing  BIMBA].  You  might  have  been 
frozen  to  the  bone ;  you  might  have  been  eaten 
of  wolves,  into  collops! — \Cuffing  both  before 
ber.~\  Into  the  house,  little  desolations  of  my 
life! 

LEO 

[to  ASSUNTA] 

Come,  Lady :  and  be  cheered  concerning  the 
babe.  For  thou  shalt  rest  and  think  on  him 
who  lay,  even  as  thou  shalt,  among  the  gentle 
beasts  and  warm  in  the  hay. 

[_He  takes  ASSUNTA  to  the  ox-shed  under  the 
archway  and  returns.  BROTHER  JUNIPER 
collects  the  faggots  up  near  the  foot  of 
the  steps  and  stands  forth,  rubbing  his 
hands. 

JUNIPER 

And  where  shall  the  pot  be  found,  for  so  great 
a  feast?  The  pot  that  shall  do  honor  to  this 


70   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

vigil,  with  an  abounding  minestrone  —  a  very 
lordly  noble  broth? 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

If  the  pot  were  all  you  wanted,  holy  father,  we 
have  a  great  kettle  within, — and  empty  enough  to 
please  you! 

[BIMBO  and  BIMBA  fetch  out  a  great  iron  pot 
which  they  take  to  JUNIPER,  with  sundry 
trappings  to  set  it  up. 

BIMBA 
[[  But,  Brother  Juniper,  where  is  the  feast  ? 

JUNIPER 

Why,  little  pigeons,  behold  the  firewood 
ready,  —  and  this  goodly  great  pot  yawning 
empty  ;  and  here  be  all  the  open  mouths.  It 
doth  but  remain  for  the  Lord  to  send  us  some 
little  portion  of  His  largess, —  that  ye  may  alJ 
eat  abundantly  and  be  filled! 

THE  PEOPLE 

[with  mixed  emotions'] 
Ah,  ah! 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   71 

JUNIPER 

Nay,  here  a  little,  there  a  little.  We  shall 
put  all  together  and  make  a  great  feast,  doubt 
not.  Give  each  the  little  he  hath,  —  with  the  lit 
tle  more  from  up  there  [pointing  to  the  upper 
square],  and  it  shall  be  multiplied  to  all  your 
hungers. — 

THE  PEOPLE 

[ruefully] 
Ah! 

[The  singing  of  ST.  FRANCIS  is  beard  dimly 
approaching. 

JUNIPER 
[wistfully] 

I  speak  as  a  fool  .  .  .  Yet  love  bloweth  the 
fire,  and  the  fire  shall  boil  the  pot,  and —  [the 
singing  nearer. ~]  Peace,  sweet  brothers,  he  comes 
at  last !  — 

[Runs  up  to  look  under  the  archway,  and 

calls  back. 

He  comes, — Brother  Francis!  —  and  a  most 
marvellous  great  dog,  leaping  beside,  —  rejoic 
ing  with  holy  gladness ! 

[Enter  ST.  FRANCIS  and  THE  WOLF] 


72    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

[For  the  following  scene,  THE  WOLF  prances 
in, full  of  buoyancy,  —  checked  every  little 
while  by  bis  dread  of  recognition  and  by 
tbe  novelty  of  the  thing.  He  is  filled  with 
curiosity  towards  place  and  people. — 
Now  and  then  he  shies  violently  at  a  sud 
den  bo  stile  association, — a  twinge  of  con 
science —  or  a  scent! 

At  first  be  occupies  tbe  stage  centre,  up, — 
wary  and  reserved,  till  FRANCIS  beckons 
him; — rolling  his  eyes,  tongue  out,  like  a 
sagacious  dog.  —  Later,  he  dashes  in  and 
out  of  the  sheltering  arcades,  stands  on  his 
bind  legs  and  looks  in  at  windows  and  out 
on  the  people.  The  folk  at  first  show  some 
fear  and  astonishment ;  then  reassurance, 
—  he  seems  the  dog  so  completely. 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  GUBBIO 
[flocking  towards  FRANCIS] 

—  Blessed  Francis  !  —  Blessed  Francis  !  — 
Francis  of  Assisi !  —  Little  Poor  Man !  —  Little 
Poor  Man  ! 

JUNIPER 

[all  eyes  for  THE  WOLF] 

Brother  Francis,  little  Father!  Whoever  be 
held  such  a  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   73 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 

—  Oh,  what  a  funny,  great  big  dog  ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  Holy  Father,  what  a  dog  ! 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 
That  hide  !  Those  teeth  !  — 

THE  DYER 

See,  see,  see  !  It 's  the  seraphic  little  Father's 
dog!  — 

LUCREZIA 

\a  blind  old  woman] 

Holy   Francis,  are  you   come  at  last  ?  To 
keep  the  feast  with  us  hungry  ones  ?  — 

THE  BAKER 
Ay,  holy  Francis  heard  us  call ! 

FRANCIS 

Peace  be  to  all ! 
Peace  unto  every  smallest  one 
Foregathered  here,  with  Brother  Sun. 

[^Touching  the  children  s  beads ;  they  draw 
back  from  THE  WOLF. 


74   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 
BIMBA 

Oh,  Father,  what  a  fearful  beast !  — 
He's  so  much  like  — 

LUCIA 

[with  upraised  bands} 

—  A  wolf,  at  least 

THE  WOMEN 

Ah! 

THE  DYER 

/  never  saw,  —  not  with  these  eyes, 
A  dog  of  such  a  size.  .  .  . 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 
Precisely  like  a  wolf. 

THE  DYER 

—  In  all  ways,  like  a  wolf. 
/  never  saw  — 

THE  BAKER 

Nor  I,  indeed,  — 
A  dog  of  such  a  breed. 
Just  like  a  wolf. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   75 

OTHERS 

Yes,  yes ! 

FRANCIS 

Indeed, 
He  is  so  ! 

THE  FURRIER 
Girth  and  hide, — 

FRANCIS 

[heartily] 

And  speed ! 

Sooth,  for  his  name,  in  case  of  need, 

I  call  him  —  'Brother  Wolf: 

\T*hey  laugh.  —  THE  WOLF  rolls  his  eyes  as  if 
words  failed.  LEO  and  JUNIPER  approach 
him  wonder  ingly.  THE  WOLF,  after  a 
sidelong  glance  and  sniff  at  eachy  licks  his 
hand  once ;  and  sits  still,  lapping  his  chops 
with  inexpressible  discretion. 

FRANCIS 

And  for  his  courtesy?    To-day 
He  fellowed  me  the  livelong  way  :  — 
Look,  Juniper,  he  ought  to  be 
A  brother  of  our  company; 


76   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

For  all  his  prowess  and  his  pride, 
He  wears  his  shirt  of  hair  outside, 
.  .  .  Even  at  the  holy  tide  ! 

BIMBO 
But  he  's  just  like  a  wolf. 

FRANCIS 
\heartily\ 

Yea,  so ! 

And  do  you  wish  to  see  him  go 
Upright,  and  walking  ? 

CHILDREN 

Yes  —  yes,  yes  ! 

FRANCIS 

So.   Brother,  of  thy  gentleness, 
Wilt  thou  stand  up  before  our  sight, 
Even  as  a  man,  —  for  more  delight, 

And  walk  upright  ? 

[THE  WOLF,  surprised  and  gratified,  tries 
it  and  succeeds ,  to  his  pride  and  pleasure. 
He  paces  several  steps  with  dignity ,  and 
sits  down  again  with  a  ( WuffJ — a  sneezy 
note  of  achievement.  Chorus  of  pleasure 
from  the  bystanders. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   77 

FRANCIS 
[to  them] 
Ye  will  have  no  more  fear,  to-day? 

ALL 

—  No,  no  ! 

—  Did  you  see  him  walk  ? 

Did  you  see  him  play? 
[ST.  FRANCIS  crosses,  left,  to  greet  the  old 
people  in  their  doorways.  THE  WOLF, 
who  keeps  discreetly  near  him,  examines 
each  interior,  standing  on  his  hind  legs 
with  quivering  interest. 

JUNIPER 
[to  THE  BAKER] 

And  might  it  be,  dear  man,  you  have  a  loaf  now, 
or  other  good  thing,  to  give  to  the  poor  soul 
we  found  in  the  woods  ?  And  herself  laid  by  to 
rest  in  the  stable-shed  ? 

THE  BAKER 

[querulously] 

Good  things  ?  —  To  give  away  !  Not  I,  not  I. 
Ah,  to  be  asking  good  things  of  me,  and  for  a 
potter's  wife  of  Foligno,  —  and  my  sons  away 


78    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

warring  at  the  gate  of  Perugia!  —  And  not  a 
morsel  in  the  house  but  what  I  have  to  bake 
with  my  own  hands  .  .  .  and  scarce  a  tooth 
left  me  ...  and  the  hard  winter  on  us,  and  a 
cold  spring  coming  after  .  .  .  and  the  very 
Wolf  at  the  door!  — 

[THE  WOLF  shies  suddenly  behind  the  Saint 

with  the  hint  of  a  growl. 
And  the  very  dogs  snarling  at  the  old!  — 

[ST.  FRANCIS  looks  in  sweetly,  and  cheers  THE 
BAKER:  THE  WOLF  reconnoitres.  THE 
DYER  and  his  wife  greet  the  Saint  by 
their  own  doorway; — yellow  hands  on 
THE  DYER,  and  blue  oh  his  wife. 

FRANCIS 
\Jo  THE  BAKER] 

Take  heart,  man  dear !  this  very  day 
Is  bearing  blessing  on  the  way. 
We  little  fellows  all  are  here 

To  bring  you  cheer; 
That  you  shall  take,  and  turn,  and  make 
To  fair  white  bread  for  hunger's  sake  ! 

THE  BAKER 

t  Eh? 


THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   79 

FRANCIS 

Gather  we  all  from  door  to  door, 
A  little,  from  a  little  store. 
Ah,  dear  my  children,  look  and  see 
That  little  turn  a  treasury 
To  certain  poorer  than  ye  be ! 
[To  THE  DYER'S  WIFE] 
So,  Monna  Piera!  Come,  what  cheer? 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  Oh,  was  there  ever  such  a  year! 

[In  one  breath] 

Piero  gone,  Gentile,  Giuseppe,  all  righting 
at  the  gates  of  Perugia !  —  Piero's  wife  ailing, 
Gentile's  wife  looking  towards  another !  — 
Giuseppe  had  no  wife  at  all  to  help  me  with  the 
dye  in  nowise;  —  the  dye,  the  children,  the 
chickens !  Only  myself  at  the  dye-vats  with  him 
[pointing  to  her  husband~\  day  in,  day  out. — 
Like  an  old  hen  clucking  after  three  broods  at 
once;  —  not  a  moment  for  a  word  with  a 
gossip  save  on  the  high  holy-days;  and  even 
then,  the  color  will  not  off!  Look  you  !  [Hold- 
ing  up  her  azure  bands. ~\ 
[THE  WOLF  reenters  unnoticed  for  the  moment.] 


80   THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 

,   Yea,  Monna  Piera,  verily  !  — 
As  blue  as  any  fleur-de-lys 
The  earliest  spring  can  bring  to  blow 
Along  a  meadow. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 
[proudly] 

Eh?'Tisso! 

THE  DYER 

7 — A  noble,  fast,  clinging  color,  that  floods 
cannot  destroy.  But  who  buys  ?  The  blue  stone 
I  powdered  up  five  years  ago  is  hardly  gone; — 
As  for  saffron  — 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

— We  Ve  never  sold  enough  to  pay  for  the 
color  of  his  two  hands  !  O  Little  Man  of  God, 
what  a  year,  what  a  year !  't  is  all  as  he  said 
[pointing  to  THE  BAKER];  our  young  men  away, 
and  our  young  women  pining,  and  the  hard 
winter  coming,  and  the  Wolf  at  the  door !  O 
Little  Poor  Man,  what  a  year! 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   81 

THE  WOLF 

[aside] 
There  's  an  idea  ! 

[Exit  by  THE  DYER'S  alley\ 

THE  DYER 

What  is  the  dog  growling  at  ? 

THE  FURRIER 

[joining  them] 

—  Why  wouldn't  any  dog  growl? — The 
taxes  on  fur,  Father  Francis  !  I  had  as  lief  to 
keep  the  live  beasts  lodging  by  me,  to  eat  us  out 
of  house  and  home.  And  now  with  fighting  the 
Perugians,  we  shall  sell  them  no  fur  these  twenty 
years  to  come.  As  to  this  town  and  lordship, — 
who  buys  so  much  as  the  ear  of  a  squirrel  ? 

THE   DYER'S  WIFE 
[pointing  to  THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE] 

And  who  can  afford  to  be  wearing  a  hood  set 
round  about  with  fox-tails  ? 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 
To  save  it  from  the  moths  and  rust,  —  the 


82    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

moths  and  rust,  alone.  No  one  in  this  desolate 
sorry  spot  would  spend  a  soldo  on  a  neighbor's 
wares. 

THE  POTTER 

[calling  out  grumblingly\ 
What  is  that  to  me  ?  What  is  that  to  me  ? 
You  can  eat  up  the  creatures  you  catch,  and  wear 
their  skins  after.  But  if  no  man  buy  my  pots, 
can  I  eat  them  again?  Hee  —  hee ! —  I  can 
make  little  jugs  and  big  jugs,  —  scodelley  boccali, 
tondini!  But  I  cannot  eat  them,  for  all  the 
teeth  I  have.  And  they  make  little  jugs  and 
big  jugs  too,  at  Foligno,  Fossato,  Spello, — 
Pah!  —  And  my  last  son  away  at  the  war; 
—  and  the  harvest  a  mock,  and  the  vintage 
worse,  and  the  long  winter  coming,  and  the 
spring  after  that,  and  the  summer  next,  but 
that 's  not  the  end ;  and  all  with  the  Wolf  at 
the  door  !  — 

[THE    WOLF,  r  centering^   shrinks    close  to 

FRANCIS  and  paws  at  him  for  attention. 

'The  children  observe  it. 

BlMBA 

Look,  Father,  look  !  Who  ever  saw  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    83 

BIMBO 

He  has  a  splinter  in  his  paw  ! 

[THE  WOLF/«^J  at  the  habit  of  ST.  FRAN 
CIS,  wit  ha  show  of  pain.  The  gossips  watch 
a  moment,  then  resume  their  wrangling 
at  THE  BAKER'S  doorway ;  some  assist 
JUNIPER  to  set  up  his  pot  with  a  hook  and 
iron  braces. 

THE  BAKER 

—  And  well  he  knows  only  a  holy  man  would 
have  the  patience  to  take  it  out  of  a  great  wild 
beast  like  that.  A-ah  !  \Witb  disfavor. 

FRANCIS 

Nay,  Brother  Wolf,  come  here  with  me. 
Give  me  thy  hand,  to  see. 

THE   WOLF 

[muttering  rapidly  while  he  submits  his  paw  with 
some  complacency  in  being  petted~\ 

—  Thorn  in  each  paw,  and  every  ear  full  ! 
O  Little  Man,  but  this  is  fearful. 

O  miserere  ! 

How  can  I  be  both  calm  and  wary  ? 


84   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

How  can  I  look  both  ways  securely? 

—  They  '11  know  me,  surely. 
Hearken.    Just  now,  I  made  a  sally 
Into  the  Dyer's,  by  that  alley. 
And  there,  brimful  and  just  inside, 
Is  a  whole  vat,  two  metres  wide, 

A  rare,  deep  blue. 

—  Would  n't  that  do?  — 

No  man  could  ever  know  this  hide; 
Come  on;  —  you  have  me  —  dyed! 
There  's  saffron  there,  if  you  prefer  .  .  . 
Not  much,  though  ;  for  it 's  costlier. 

—  Beside, 

These  cackling  wives  and  make-shift  men 
Might  take  me  for  a  sheep-dog  then. — 

FRANCIS 

[  laughing  over  him] 

What,  Brother  Wolf,  for  all  thy  pride, 
And  would'st  thou  hide  ? 

THE  WOLF 
[nervously] 

Whose  hide?  —  Maybe  my  courage  fails, — 
A  penance  for  my  sins  .  .  . 
But  do  avoid  the  man  of  Skins, — 
And  his  helpmeet,  of  a  hundred  tails ! 


THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   85 

FRANCIS 

A  kindly  man,  of  wants  and  woes. 
Why  should  he  guess  ? 

THE  WOLF 
[with  scorn] 

—  Has  he  a  nose? 

[Walks  to  leeward  of  the  Saint  towards 

THE  FURRIER'S  empty  booth,  to  view  the 

small  exhibit  of  hanging  skins,  with  fevered 

curiosity. 

Kind !    .    .    .    And    what    do    you    think  of 

those  ?  — 

[Sniffs  excitedly  and  shies  away,  right.  The 
people  notice,  as  FRANCIS  crosses  to  them 
again. 

THE  DYER 

Eh,  eh  ?  No  wonder  he  makes  shy  of  Nello's 
shop  !  That  skin  of  his  would  fetch  a  fine  price 
any  day,  —  for  a  mock-wolf  hide. 

THE  WOLF 
[overbearing] 
Mock-wolf!  Gr — r  —  r  .  .  . 


86   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  POTTER 
[from  his  doorway*  right"] 
Bah !  —  via,  via  ! 

[THE  WOLF  avoids  him,  and  goes  to  the  next 
door — OLD  LUCREZIA'S — where  be  shows 
signs  of  panic.  She  sits  in  the  doorway,, 
blindly  spinning,  with  a  little  hand  distaff. 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

[complacently] 
Ay,  he  would  make  the  best  of  furs. 

THE  BAKER 
Faith,  'tis  the  Grossest  of  all  curs. — 

BIMBA 

[following  THE  WOLF] 
No,  no !  —  His  tail  is  full  of  burrs  ! 

THE  WOLF 
[to  himself  ~\ 
.  .  .  Now,  will  you  hear?  — 

.  .  .  There  's  an  idea ! 

[Backs  up  to  FRANCIS    again,   with  signs 

of  distress.   The  people  laugh,  while  FRAN- 

cis  follows  THE  WOLF  apart  >  and  inquires 

of  his  hurt. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    87 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 
Like  a  great  baby !  — 

FRANCIS 
[to  THE  WOLF] 
.  .  .  Dost  thou  ail  ? 

THE  WOLF 
[in  a  gruff  aside] 
No,  no,  it  's  not  my  tail. 

No,  it 's  my  past  .  .  .  that 's  on  my  mincL 

Why  can't  that  stay  behind? 

Hist  ...  do  you  see  that  woman  there? 

The  old  one,  with  the  silver  hair  ? 

She'll  know  me ! 

FRANCIS 

Brother,  she  is  blind. 

BIMBO 

[watching  from  across  the  way] 
Hear  how  he  whines.  — 

BlMBA 

—  He  had  good  cause. 


88   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

BIMBO 

—  And  licks  his  paws. 

THE  WOLF 

[while  ST.  FRANCIS  strokes  bis  earsy  and  disen 
gages  a  burr  or  two\ 

O  Little  Man,  ...  I  am  not  more  than  human ; 
—  I  cannot  face  that  woman. 
Look,  once  .  .  .  Oh,  years  and  years  ago, — 
Her  garden  *s  at  the  back,  you  know  .  .  . 

FRANCIS 

[with  fain  and  fity\ 
Ah,  tears  of  weary  women  still ! 

THE  WOLF 

[dolorously] 

Say  what  you  will  .  .  . 
But  is  n't  it  what  all  wolves  do  ? 

FRANCIS 

Prey  on  the  helpless?  Yea,  not  you 
Alone,  my  Brother.  All  wolves  do. 


THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO   89 

THE  WOLF 

And  I  was  hungry  .  .  .  after  Lent; 

And  so  ...  I  went  .  .  . 
\Whispersto  ST.  FRANCIS,  whose  face  shows 

deep  feeling. 

Hm-hm.  —  I  did,  and  open-eyed  .  .  . 
And  a  young  lamb,  beside  ! 

FRANCIS 

[crossing  with  sweet  concern  to  OLD  LUCREZIA] 
Monna  Lucrezia,  of  your  grace, 
Will  you  sit  here,  a  little  space, 
And  warm  you  in  the  lovely  sun, 

Until  your  weaving 's  done? 
And  this,  my  Brother  here,  shall  be 
A  footstool  for  you,  joyfully ; 
To  make  your  comfort  full, 
The  while  you  card  the  wool. 
\_Shefeels  her  way  out  into  the  sunlight ',  smiling^ 
and  sits  upon  a  bench.  THE  WOLF,  obedient 
to  FRANCIS*  sign,  crouches  before  her,  so 
that  she  rests  her  feet  on  his  back.  He  is 
the  picture  of  abject  misery. 
And  come  you,  all,  till  the  noon  is  done, 
Singing  and  working,  every  one, 
For  praise  of  Brother  Sun  ! 


go   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Shall  we  not  all,  both  young  and  old 
Sing  away  want,  —  sing  away  cold  ? 
Shall  we  not  make  our  thresholds  sweet, 
Even  as  though  we  looked  to  see 
Our  Lady,  riding  presently 

Even  adown  this  street?  — 
[They  catch  the  infection  of  his  happiness  and 

shed  their  woes  and  grumblings  suddenly. 

THE  BAKER 

[laughing  in  sudden  youth,  while  they  look  at 

him  with  amazement^ 
Eh?  —  Old  as  I  am,  and  full  of  care, — 
Yet  I  could  swear, 
If  holy  Francis  do  but  pass, 
The  snow  turns  feathers ;  and  all  the  air 
Is  mild  as  Martinmas! 
[singing] 

I  am  the  Baker  of  Gubbio; 
And  the  longer  I  live,  the  older  I  grow ! 
But  when  I  can  no  more  of  bread, 
Manna  shall  be  my  food  instead. 
Hosanna, 
Hosanna, 
Good  wine,  and  mellow  manna! 

[To  THE  POTTER] 
Eh?  neighbor,  are  you  dumb  this  day  ? 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   gi 

FRANCIS 
\to  THE  POTTER,  who  is  turning  a  bowl  on 

bis  wbeel~\ 

Not  he,  not  he!  —  Whose  hands  have  skill 
To  turn  and  shape,  and  warm  at  will, 

This  cold  and  trembling  clay  :  — 
Of  feeble  clasp  and  quivering  lips, 

All  shaken  with  dismay  ; 
Ah,  Povero  !  the  brother-thing,  — 
A  creature  weak  and  perishing,  — 
Look,  through  his  guiding  hand  it  slips, 
Wrought  now  to  stand  and  laugh,  —  and  sing! 

THE    POTTER 


.......     Eh,  eh? 

[He  turns  his  wheel,  singing"] 

Ho!  Ho!  Ho!  Ho! 

Round  you  go,  round  you  go; 

Round  as  the  sun, 
So,  —  so  ; 

With  a  lip  to  sing, 

And  a  lip  to  pour:  — 

When  the  draught  is  done, 
God  send  us  more  ! 

THE  WOLF 

Bravo!  —  wfff  .  .  „ 


92    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 
LUCREZIA 

[singing] 

Weave  and  spin; 

Spin  and  weave ; 
Ever  since  our  mother  Eve 

Did  begin ! 

Little  lamb,  —  O  white  of  wool, 
Keep  you  white  and  beautiful. 
Give  you  peace,  give  you  peace; 
You  shall  give  me  of  your  fleece. 
Never  shall  Our  Lady  grieve, 

While  I  weave, 

While  I  weave 

This, —  so  moonlike  white  and  fair, 
To  shield  Him  from  the  bitter  air, 
Her  Lamb,  her  blessed  Son, 
.  .  .  Her  One. 

[A  II  laugh  sweetly  in  her  praise.  THE  WOLF 
crawls  out  from  under  her  feet >  in  dog-like 
distress  of  conscience. 

FRANCIS  takes  a  rush-basket  from  THE 
BAKER'S  window,  and  turns  back  to  THE 
WOLF. 

FRANCIS 
See,  Brother  Wolf,  I  bid  thee  take 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   93 

This  in  thy  teeth,  a  little  space ; 

And  even  as  a  helpful  hound, 

Go  now  thy  round, 

Asking  of  each  a  little  grace, 

For  pity's  sake.  — 

\_He  puts  the  handle  in  THE  WOLF'S  mouth. 
THE  WOLF  trots  off  with  BROTHER  LEO. 
From  time  to  time,  he  reappears  —  set 
ting  down  before  JUNIPER  various  con 
tributions  to  the  pot-au-feu,  —  a  fowl,  a 
string  of 'onions •, peppers,  a  bare.  JUNIPER 
is  zealously  boiling  the  pot  over  the  fire, 
with  help  and  advice  from  the  children^ 
some  of  whom  are  mothering  small  swaddled 
babies,  child -fashion,  as  they  look  on. 
LUCIA  comes  down  from  the  fountain,  spill 
ing  water  out  of  her  copper  vessel  all  the 
way.  ST.  FRANCIS  meets  her  with  smiling 
protest. 

FRANCIS 

But  .  .  .  of  your  courtesy,  my  daughter  .  .  . 
Deal  gently  with  her  preciousness. — 

LUCIA 

—  Eh?  — 


94   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 

....  Yes,  — 
Our  Sister  Water. 
She  is  so  lowly,  and  so  clear, — 
Gladness  to  see,  and  mirth  to  hear; 
Laughing,  for  very  purity, 

—  Laughing  to  thee  and  me  ! 

LUCIA 
[breaking  into  songy  with  other  girls  who  fill  their 

jars  also  at  the  fountain] 
Water,  water,  Sister  dear 
Silver  sweet,  —  silver  clear, 
Sweet  as  laughter  in  the  sun, 

Sparkle,  drip  and  run! 
Wash  the  ways  before  her  feet, 
Lest  there  pass  along  our  street, 
The  blessed,  blessed  One. 

A  CAGED  BLACKBIRD 

San  Francesco! 
San  Francesco  !  . 

—  D'Assisi! 

—  D'Assisi ! 

—  D*  Assist! 


THE    WOLF    OP    GUBBIO   95 

[JUNIPER  leaves  his  pot-au-feu,  and  comes 
down,  pointing  out  to  ST.  FRANCIS  the 
nearest  babe,  now  in  Bi MBA'S  arms. 

JUNIPER 

Seraphic  little  father,  do  but  see  this  Babe, 
how  it  is  marked  for  the  religious  life.  Poverty 
and  perfect  obedience,  and  silence  !  Not  a  word 
out  of  him  since  I  came.  And  his  head  as  bare 
as  a  friar's  !  Heaven  itself  gave  him  the  tonsure. 

BIMBA  and  BIMBO 

[laughing] 

Oh,  Brother  Juniper,  it's  just  a  baby.  Like 
any  other  baby  !  \jTo  it.~]  Povero  !  — 

[THE  WOLF,  re  enter  ing  at  the  moment,  drops 
his  basket  and  approaches,  to  sniff  at  the 
centre  of  interest. 

BIMBA 

Look  !  How  he  loves  babies  ! 

[THE  WOLF  shies  off,  in  sudden  panic] 

JUNIPER 
[of  the  baby] 

Would  he  not  serve  right  well,  Father 
Francis,  for  our  vigil  and  feast  this  night,  of 
the  Crib  ?  —  the  blessed  Babe  in  the  Manger? 


96   THE   WOLF  OF    GUBBIO 

ALL 
\excitcdly\ 

Oh,  blessed  Francis !  —  Dear  Brother 
Juniper  !  Shall  we  have  such  a  sight  ?  —  Here  ? 
—  Where?— How? 

LUCIA 

Shall  we  have  a  show,  as  the  people  did  at 
Greccio  ? 

FRANCIS 

Sooth,  you  shall  have  such  blessedness, 
You,  too,  beloved,  and  no  less. 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 
With  lights  ? 

—  And  torches? 

LUCIA 

—  Banners  ? 

FRANCIS 

Yes! 

With  all  fair  things,  for  loveliness ! 

Gathered  together,  every  one, 

Here  in  this  place  when  day  is  done ; 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    97 

And  we  shall  picture,  as  we  may, 
The  stall  where  once  the  Blessed  lay, 
With  ox  and  ass  among  the  hay. 

BlMBA 

Oh,  lights! 

FRANCIS 

—  Yes,  every  way  of  light, 
To  make  the  shadow  bright;  — 
To  make  the  dark  see  clear. 
And  where  is  she,  —  that  mothering  one 
That  with  her  little  swaddled  son 

Shall  be  Our  Lady  here? 
[LuciA  would  step  forward,  but  JUNIPER 
interposes  timidly. 

JUNIPER 

Father  Francis,  .  .  .  thepoorsoull  told  you 
of,  yonder  in  the  ox-shed !  —  she  and  the  ox- 
shed  together,  put  it  even  in  my  dull  head  — 

FRANCIS 

Yea,  so  !  —  and  of  a  certainty, 
Right  meet  it  is.  This  holy  night 
She  shall  be  crowned,  verily ;  — 
After  her  hunger  and  her  thirst, 
She  that  was  last  shall  be  the  first, 
In  all  men's  sight. 


98    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 
LUCIA 


—  But  she  's  lost  the  baby  ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  And  thou  hast  none  ! 

FRANCIS 

And  let  you  take  good  heed  apart, 
How  you  may  comfort  her  sad  heart. 
As  to  Our  Lady  and  her  Son, 
Do  honor  to  this  broken  one  ; 
Until  the  wilderness  abound;  — 
And  the  lost  lamb  be  found. 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 
—  But  which  is  to  be  the  holy  Bambino? 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 

—  Who  is  to  be  for  the  Baby  ? 

e  women  flock  round^.  FRANCIS,  holding 
out  their  swaddled  babes  for  his  eyes.  'The 
Saint  looks  on  them  smiling  and  touches 
them  tenderly  ',  putting  them  byy  one  by  oney 
with  a  gentle  shrewdness. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   99 

FRANCIS 
Ah,  Monna  Piera  ? 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

[proudly] 
.  .  .  Son  of  my  son  ! 

FRANCIS 
Sweet  peace  be  on  this  little  one. 

LUCIA 
Look,  look  !  this  bimba  here,  —  my  niece ! 

BIMBA 

[calling  over  its  beaa*] 
And  mine ! 

FRANCIS 

The  Lord  give  thee  His  peace :  — 
Andthee  ...  and  thee  .  .  .  His  nested  loves! 
Sooth,  they  are  like  a  swarm  of  doves ; 
Cooing,  and  soft  .  .   .  and  breathing  warm, 


.     .     .     .     Doves  in  a  swarm ! 

THE   DYER'S  WIFE 
Behold  him ! 

[Thrusting  nearer] 


ioo   THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 
Ah  .  .  .  and  yet,  methinks  . 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 
Look  you,  how  piously  he  blinks ! 

FRANCIS 
Yea,  so. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  And  warm  and  rosy-red  ! 

FRANCIS 

But  ah,  my  little  ones,  ye  see 
When  Love  the  Lord  came,  verily, 
Could  He  have  been  so  rosy-red, 
Who  had  no  shelter  to  His  head? 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

Ecco !  —  'tis  liker  .  .  . 
[Holding  out  her  own  grandchild] 

FRANCIS 

.  .  .  Yet,  not~quite. 
These  little  hands  are  folded  tight ; 
And  His,  methinks,  were  open  wide. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    101 

Nothing  had  He,  save  love  alcne, 
Who  came,  a  Lamb  withouten  spot,  '* 
Came,  in  the  cold,  unto  His  pwft:^ 
And  they  received  Him  not. 

\_A s  with  a  sudden  thought] 
Is  there,  maybe,  some  smallest  one, 
Poor  of  the  poorest  ?  —  Nay,  outcast  ? 
Of  all  forlorn,  the  least  and  last? 
Hungering,  naked,  —  turned  away 
Mayhap  this  very  day  ?  — 
Or  with  no  otherwhere  to  go 
Save  wandering  in  the  snow? 

THE  WOMEN 

No,  indeed,  little  Father  !  — We  be  all  good 
mothers  here  ;  we  give  our  children  the  best  we 
have.  They  never  want  for  anything  long,  that 
they  want  with  discretion  ! 

JUNIPER 

\_interposing  again  with  beaming  helpfulness] 
Father  Francis,  the  poor  woman  ye  wot  of 
yonder  in  the  ox-shed ;  that  is  her  case  to  the 
last  feather !  Sore  misprized,  and  turned  away, 
and  with  no  otherwhere  to  go.  — 


IO2    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 

Brother,  if  this  be  so, 
No  babe  but  hers  is  in  such  case 
To  fill  that  holy  place ! 
Hungering  ?  —  Spent,  and  cold  ? 

JUNIPER 
\_enrapturecT\ 
There  with  the  Ox,  — behold!  — 

FRANCIS 
An  outcast  stranger. 

THE  PEOPLE 
[clamorously] 

—  It 's  lost ;  it  *s  gone;  — 

—  It 's  lost !  It  is  n't  here ! 

—  It  is  n't  here  I 

FRANCIS 

Still  seek  it,  far  and  near, 
Search  every  spot. 

THE  PEOPLE 
—  Yes,  Yes,  Yes!  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    103 

FRANCIS 
And  if  ye  find  it  not, — 


THE  PEOPLE 
—  Yes,  yes  !  -  -  What  then  ? 

FRANCIS 

Still  there  will  be  ...  the  Manger ! 

[They  disperse,  trying  to  conceal  tbeir  disap 
pointment. 

Re  enter  at  back,    BROTHER   LEO   with   a 
basket. 

LEO 

These,  Brother  Francis,  my  lord  the  bishop 
sends  to  this  feast;  and  would  have  thee 
to  speak  with  him  shortly,  above  at  the 
palace. 

JUNIPER 

{opening  the  basket,  and  displaying  herbs, 

eggs,  and  a  dressed  sucking-pig~] 
A  most  noble  .  .  .  little  pig  ...  of  great 
size   [compassionately].    Ah  .  .  .  brother  little 
Pig!   [faltering.] 


IO4    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  PEOPLE 

[delighted] 

In  withit, — into  the  brodo!  Evviva  the  lord 
bishop ! 

JUNIPER 
[obeying] 
Alas  .  .  .  and  Alleluia  1 

LEO 

Likewise,  my  lord  the  bishop  hath  given  leave 
to  ring  the  great  bell  for  your  assembling,  when 
all  is  ready. 

[THE  WOLF  shows  some  excitement,  looking 

up  at  the  tower. 

FRANCIS,  with  a  smiling  gesture  of  adieu, 
makes  as  if  to  go ;  the  people  disperse  to 
their  houses.  BROTHER   LEO,  up,  assists 
JUNIPER. 
THE  WOLF  comes  down  to  meet  FRANCIS. 

THE  WOLF 

Lasso  !  .  .  .  Ah,  do  not  go  away ; 
Some  evil  thing  will  chance,  I  know. 
....  Ah,  do  not  go. 

FRANCIS 
Not  yet  secure? 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    105 

THE  WOLF 

No,  no.  —  Ah,  stay ! 
I  'm  not  at  ease,  not  for  a  minute! 
This  miming,  —  why  did  I  begin  it? 
They  '11  trap  me  by  the  conscience,  —  and  then 
skin  it ! 

FRANCIS 
\coaxingly\ 
Ah!  — 

THE  WOLF 

They  suspect:  else  why  that  flick 
'Chick  nor  child,  —  child  nor  chick  ! ' 
They  know  the  best  where  things  can  prick: 
—  Wf!  'tis  a  human  trick! 

\Distike  and  suspicion  flare  up,  in  his  glances 
towards  the  houses. 

FRANCIS 
Ah  no ! 

THE  WOLF 

But  yes  !  And  let  me  hear  once  more, 
Their    endless    taunt    of  Wolf,    Wolf  at   the 
door  !  — 

FRANCIS 
My  Brother  !  —  'T  is  no  mock  at  thee. 


106    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

THE  WOLF 
[sternly] 

There  is  no  other  Wolf  for  it  to  be: 
No  peer  of  mine. 

FRANCIS 
Thou  'rt  fevered  with  remorse. 

THE  WOLF 
[cautiously] 

N-n  .  .  .  Of  course. 

But  I  am  grown  a  proverb,  do  you  see  ? 

It 's  me. 

There  is  none  other  like  me.  No, 
I  am  The  Wolf  of  Gubbio. 

FRANCIS 
No.   *T  is  the  name  they  have  for  poverty. 

THE  WOLF 

[outraged] 

Their  poverty!  To  put  my  name 
On  that  black  dolor  of  all  shame?  — 

FRANCIS 
The  dread  of  want,  that  haunts  the  poor. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    107 

THE  WOLF 
[bar  kingly"] 

Wolf-at-the-Door  ?   Wolf~at-the-Door  ? 
To  blame  on  me  their  poverty !  .  .  . 
And  what  of  all  that  went  before  ? 
What  of  their  famines  and  their  war 

_War  — War? 

FRANCIS 

Even  so,  Brother.  —  Come,  dost  see  ? 

Juniper  lacks  thy  ministry. 

He  is  a  true-heart;  trust  him  ;  —  so. 

THE  WOLF 
.....     Ah,  must  you  go  ? 

FRANCIS 
To  come  again. 

THE  WOLF 
[ruefully] 

Ahi ! — watch  and  pray. — 

But  .  .  .  oh,  they'll  have  my  hide  some  day! 

[Looking  back  at  THE  FURRIER'S] 
And  if  they  do,  when  .  .  .  when   I  best  can 
spare  it,  — 


io8    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Hist!  Poverello,  tell  me,  will  you  wear  it? 
None  of  this  folk; — I  couldn't  bear  it! 

[Exit  FRANCIS  with  a  laughing  caress  to  THE 
WOLF'S  ears.  BROTHER  LEO  joins  him. 
They  go  out,  centre.  THE  WOLF  watches 
them  off)  then  waddles  dejectedly  over  to 
JUNIPER  and  the  pot,  not  without  suspi 
cion.  He  utters  a  whining^  experimental 
note. 

JUNIPER 

[simply,  as  to  a  question] 
Yea,  it  is  so,  indeed. 

[THE  WOLF  shies  with  astonishment] 

THE  WOLF 
Wufff. 

JUNIPER 

Nay,  you  will  like  it,  I  make  certain,  Brother 
Wolf;  what  with  rosemary  and  sweet  basil  .  .  . 

THE  WOLF 

{cautiously] 
Wflf. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    109 

JUNIPER 

But  only  wait  till  I  have  cooked  all  well  to 
gether,  and  it  will  be  good  .  .  .  better  than  the 
raw  flesh  of  Heathenesse.  —  I  crave  your  pardon, 
Brother. 

THE  WOLF 

What 's  that?  .  .  . 

JUNIPER 

This  word  I  used,  of '  Heathenesse.'  But  you 
will  forgive  it,  Brother  Wolf.  For  indeed  it  is 
very  gently  done  for  you  to  be  talking  and 
reasoning  with  me,  —  a  poor  silly  simpleton,  the 
fool  among  the  brothers,  with  no  sayings  or  no 
words  in  me  at  all  to  match  the  cunning  of  the 
beasts  ! 

[THE  WOLF  backs  away  from  him,  dum- 
founded. 

THE  WOLF 

Ha! — .  .  .  Words  may  fail  .  .  . 

.  .  .  But  not  a  tail. — 
\Wags  it  and  makes  friendly  with  JUNIPER, 
who  stirs  the  pot,  lifting  something  to  view 
now  and  then  with  his  skillet.  .  .  .  THE 
WOLF  on  his  hind  legs  looks  into  the  pot. 


iio    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

JUNIPER 
[stirring] 
Poor  Brother  Hare ! 

THE  WOLF 
[commiserating] 

Ah,  Poveroy  —  gone  under  ! 

JUNIPER 
Would  his  own  mother  know  him  now? 

THE  WOLF 
[with  a  flourish  of  his  tongue] 

...  I  wonder. 

JUNIPER 

Yet,  if  he  needs  must  perish,  to  be  sure, 
He  shall  as  it  were  — 

THE  WOLF 

Refresh  the  poor ! 
Do  they  go  hungry  then,  another  year  ? 

[Meditates]    .  .  .  Queer. 
Bravo,  bravo,  you  're  a  good  fellow. — 
Wf!  —  This  broth  begins  to  mellow. 
[Windows  open  right  and  left,  and  inquiring 
noses  turn  toward  the  pot-au-feu.    BIMBO 
and  BIMBA  and  THE  DYER'S  WIFE  ap 
pear.  She  throws  a  handful  of  herbs. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    in 

THE   DYER'S  WIFE 

Brother,  Brother  Juniper  !  It  will  want  some 
spice  now  ...  I  Ve  nothing  to  throw  in  the 
pot,  but  here  's  a  few  herbs ! 

CHILDREN 

[calling] 

Throw  them  in,  and  then  you  '11  see ! 
Basil  —  fennel  —  rosemary  ! 

THE   POTTER 
\_from  his  window] 
Yes,  and  here,  some  sprigs  of  bay  ! 

THE  WOLF 

What  are  they  ? 

[JUNIPER  picks  them  up,  and  puts  them  in, 
while  THE  WOLF  grins  sagaciously  at  the 
houses,  with  growing  sarcasm. 
Oh,  I  see  .  .  .  These  goodly  savors 
Call  forth  unaccustomed  favors. 
I  am  not  alone  there! — No; 
Little  wolves  of  Gubbio !  [Spitefully. 

\He  crosses  and  looks  in  a  window] 


ii2    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

WOMAN'S  VOICE 

Eh?—  It's  only  that  wild  dog.   Be  off!— 
I  Ve  nothing  more. 

THE  WOLF 

[aside] 

Nothing?  .  .  .  Only  when  she  pleases. 
Truly!  .  .  .  (Row  on  row  of  cheeses.) 
Here  is  somewhat.  .  .  . 
[Missile  flies  through  the  window] 

JUNIPER 

—  Miserere  ! 

THE  WOLF 
Largess,  largess  ! 

[Another  follows] 

Hm  !  ...  Be  wary  .  .  . 

Can't  recall  that  I  Ve  abused  her.     [Thinks. 
Oh.  —  But  then,  ...  an  ageing  rooster! 

JUNIPER 
[stirring] 

This  should  be  a  most  exalted 

Minestrone. 


THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    113 

THE  WOLF 
Is  it  salted  ? 

JUNIPER 

[running  to  a  jar] 

Salt,  in  sooth,  more  salt.  —  \_Admiringly.~]   Ah, 

thou! 
.  .  .  But  if  I  had  some  saffron,  now, — 

THE  WOLF 
Saffron  ? 

JUNIPER 
A  pinch. 

THE  WOLF 

The  yellow  in  the  vat? 
—  Do  you  mean  that? 
[Goes  to  the  house ;  JUNIPER  marvels] 

JUNIPER 
The  Dyer's  !  San  Rufino  of  Assisi ! 

THE  WOLF 

....  That 's  easy. 
[Scratches  at  the  door  and  retreats'] 
—  You  ask  him.  [THE  DYER  looks  out. 


ii4    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  DYER 

If  it's  any  thing  —  Oh, 'tis  the  wild  dog  alone. 
—  Get  away  ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

Be  off,  then  !  What  do  you  look  for  ?  [Sees 
JUNIPER'S  petitionary  attitude.]  Ask  the  neigh 
bors  !  As  for  us,  we  have  n't  enough  in  the 
cupboard  for  chick  nor  child ;  and  the  long 
winter  before  us,  and  the  bad  vintage  behind 
us,  and  the  Wolf —  [The  door  slams. 

[THE  WOLF  shies  offy  looking  ugly] 

JUNIPER 

I   would  that  our  sister's    heart   might   be 
warmed  of  holy  Chanty,  to  go  comfort  her  in 
the  ox-shed.  —  [Pointing  up]  ( Chick  nor  child,' 
— alas!  —  And  where  is  hers,  this  winter  day? 
[THE  WOLF  glares  at  him  with  sudden  suspi 
cion.  JUNIPER  innocently  rambles  on,  stir 
ring. 

How  would  it  wound  her  to  the  quick  !  —  Poor 
soul,  withouten  child  or  chick. 

[THE  WOLF  mutters^  still  eying  him] 
Nay,  Brother.   Is  it  lacking  aught? 

[THE    WOLF   shrinks  from  himy  towards 
THE  BAKER'S  house. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    115 

THE  BAKER 

\tbrusting  bis  head  out\ 

Yah  !  —  Be-off! —  Get  you  gone,  Lupone,— 
Rubaccio  !  Via  —  via  —  via  ! 

[Throwing  an  empty  flask  at  bim\ 

JUNIPER 

'Tis  done.  'T  is  done  . . .  smoking  and  ready  ; 
now  will  I  ring  the  bell. 

THE  WOLF 

[harshly] 

—  And  then, 

The  pack  comes  scrabbling  back  again  ; 
The  creatures  yapping  discontent ;  — 
Animals  that  have  lost  their  scent ! 
Noble  reason  throned,  indeed!  — 
To  hunt  and  fight  and  feed ! 

\_He  begins  to  look  devilish] 

JUNIPER 

[mildly,  bis  hands  folded] 
Ah,  Brother  Wolf,  I  would  n't  say  that.  For 
who  can  upbraid  them,  disheartened  as  they  are 
with  the  war  and  the  cold,  — 


n6    THE   WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

THE  WOLF 

'And  the  long  winter  coming  !  '  — Yes  ?  Yes  ? 
Yes?  —  And!  and!  and!  — 

JUNIPER 

\_seriously~\ 

Yes,  and  a  sorry  vintage.  —  And  the  very 
Wolf  at  the  door !  [_He  turns,  not  noticing  THE 
WOLF'S  fury,  and  goes  up  as  if  to  ring  the  bell; 
then  turns  back.~\  Stay !  First  will  I  sweep  all 
clean  .  .  .  Had  I  a  broom  now?  .  .  \Looks 
doubtfully  right  and  left.~\  I  will  go  and  ask  my 
lord  bishop,  in  the  name  of  the  blessed  Michael 
and  all  angels,  ...  to  lend  me  a  broom  !  Then 
is  there  nought  left  save  to  ring  the  great  bell. 

[Exit. 
THE  WOLF 

\alone~\ 

[His  voice  and  manner  change  him  to  a 

crackling  cynic] 

The  Bell.  [He  glances  upward."]  So  this  was 
all  it  meant.  ...  I  knew  it  would  n't  last.  — 
One  of  these  sudden  conversions.  .  .  .  Voice  .  .  . 
face  .  .  .  music  .  .  .  queer  feelings  ...  — 
Then  where  is  it  all  ?  —  I  would  n't  be  a  man  if 
I  could.  There 's  only  one,  [with  a  sidelong 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    117 

glance  after  FRANCIS'  exit\  .  .  .  probably  not  a 
man  at  all;  something  new.  —  Perhaps  back  in 
the  woods  —  Wf !  [Showing  sudden  abject  guilt, 
as  be  steals  a  look  at  the  ox-sbed.~\  .  .  .  If  he 
knew  that?  Not  he  !  .  .  No.  [Defiantly. ~\  I  will 
have  my  day,  I  will  have  my  day  !  .  .  .  And 
after,  —  back  to  the  woods.  Ah,  where 's  the  use  ? 

What  was  I  left  watching  for  ? 

......     Saints  could  do  no  more  ! 

\_Dasbes  from  bouse  to  bouse,  peering  in,  fry 
ing  the  next  window,  and  muttering  with 
growing  excitement. 

Hm  !  —  One  rocking  at  a  cradle  ;  — 

Baling  something  with  a  ladle  .  .  . 

Tying  kerchiefs ;  .  .  .  making  fine  .  .  . ' 
\A  slap  is  heard  and  outcry  of  children^ 

Two — three  —  four  .     .  .  and  all  to  dine? 

Ah,  my  beauty,  why  such  airs?  — 

Hi!  The  potter  .  .  .  saying  his  prayers! 

Tries  her  wimple  .  .  .  what  a  wearer! 

Just  one  snarl,  now,  would  it  scare  her? 

(Lento,  lento)  .  .  .  Buona  sera ! 
... 

Washing,  truly.  Dozing?  Heaven!  — 

Three,  no,  no,  —  four,  five,  six,  seven 


ii8    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Hungry  humans  .  .  .  Call  it  theft ! 

Eight?  — There  will  be  nothing  left. 

[Goes  to  THE  FURRIER'S  :  stands  up,  quiver 
ing  with  excitement  at  sight  of  the  skins  y 
recognizing  old  friends. 

Hide  and  hair,  it  makes  me  creep !  .  .  . 

Is  n't  this  worse  than  taking  sheep 

When  you  're  hungry  ?  —  Steal  and  wear 

Others'  skins  ?  to  make  you  fair  ? 

Murderers  so  debonair ! 

Ah,  ah  !  —  \With  an  outburst  of  grief  . 

So  this  was  where  she  went, 

For  all  the  longing  search  we  spent !  .  .  , 

Oh,  Silver  Glory's  radiant  fur ! 

What  woman  lives  to  match  with  her  ? 

Wind-swift !  —  Her  eyes  two  yellow  suns !  — 

Fighting  for  all  her  little  ones, 

The  cursed  winter  Snarl  was  trapped  .  .  . 

—  If  ever  I  see  a  woman  wrapped 

In  all  that  beauty  not  her  own, 

That  strength  she  could  not  meet  alone, — 

Something  she  never  fought  nor  fed, 

Cold  —  stolen  —  duped  and  dead  !  — 

[THE  FURRIER'S  wife,  speaking  back,  appears 
at  the  window,  takes  down  a  mantle  of  wolf 
skin  and  puts  it  over  her  shoulder  sy  com 
placently. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    119 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

—  And  /  say  I  will !  For  the  dusk  will  be 
falling  cold.  And  this  nobleman  of  France  may 
be  there  to  look  on  ...  and  what  is  it  worth 
outside,  but  to  gather  dust  and  covetous  desires  ? 

\Exit  within. 

THE  WOLF 

\javagely\ 

Never  again  shall  my  guilt  vex  my  wits. 
We're  quits! 

\Witb  a  snarl,  be  runs  up  to  the  pot,  and 
tramples  out  the  fire  beneath.  —  He  stands 
upright  and  plunging  nose  and  paws  into 
the  pot,  voraciously  devours  everything. 

From  the  pot  he  crosses  to  the  fountain  and 
loudly  drinks  his  fill ;  pausing  to  grin  with 
spite,  back  at  the  little  houses,  flourishing 
bis  tongue.  Shying  away  from  the  ox- 
shed,  which  he  always  avoids,  he  goes  up 
the  stone  steps  on  all  fours,  and  disap 
pears,  right. 

Enter,  up  left,  on  the  steps,  Louis  of  France, 
followed  by  bis  men.  All  wear  pilgrim 
robes,  with  palmers'  emblems  upon  them.  He 
descends  the  steps,  and  speaks  back  to  them, 
pointing  out  the  smoking  kettle,  smilingly. 


I2O    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 
Louis 

Pause  here.  Ye  see  ?  The  feast  is  ready  set. 
To-day  shall  we  break  bread  with  God's  own 

poor; 
And  with  the  holy  Francis. 

[Enter  below,  under  the  archway,  JUNIPER 

beaming  with  joy,  —  a  twig-broom  in  bis 

band,  and  a  white  linen  cloth  on  his  arm. 
JUNIPER,  not  noticing  Louis,  brushes  off 

the  flag-stones  round  about  the  kettles  first. 

Then,  seeing  the  strangers,  be  advances, 

with  timid  hospitality. 

JUNIPER 
The  Lord  give  ye  His  Peace.  — 

Louis 

And  thee,  my  brother. 
Wilt  thou  admit  a  pilgrim  ? 

JUNIPER 

Ah,  Messer  Pilgrim,  God's  guests  are  every 
where. —  Now  am  I  about  to  ring  the  great 
bell  .  .  .  Then  comes  little  Father  Francis 
.  .  .  then  all !  — 

\_He  hastens  up  and  rings.  'The  people  come 
in  with  great  expectation  as  the  Bell  sounds. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    121 

Enter  FRANCIS  and  BROTHER  LEO  —  who 
meet  Louis,  without  knowing  hlmy  but 
with  radiant  friendliness. 

JUNIPER  returns  and  hastens  to  the  pot. 
Plunging  in  his  ladle,  he  is  seen  to  dis 
cover  with  consternation  that  it  is  empty ; 
and  stands,  first  incredulous,  then  rooted 
to  the  ground  with  woe. 

FRANCIS 

Peace  be  upon  you  !  .  .  .  and  on  all 
This  homing  flock  .  .  . 

[70  Louis] 
My  Brother  dear! 

[To  JUNIPER] 

Nay,  Juniper  .  .  .  But  what  mischance 
Doth  cloud  thy  countenance  ? 

JUNIPER 
[gaspingly] 
Seraphic  little  ...  I  ... 

.  .  there  's  no  .  .  . 

.  .  .  't  is  clear 
An  Angel  hath  been  here  .  .  . 


The  pot  is  ...  empty!  — 


122    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  GUBBIO 

My  gander  .  .  .  my  gander  .  .  .  the  best 
of  them  all! — The  pot  is  empty  .  .  .  the  pot 
is  empty  !  No  festa,  no  dinner,  no  minestrone!  — 
Oh !  Oh !  my  peppers,  my  peppers  .  .  .  the 
two  last  eggs  !  Gone  !  —  Gone  !  Devoured  ! 
Devoured  !  Devoured ! 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 
and  THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

An  angel  indeed !  Hear  the  simple  brother 
who  knows  not  the  ways  of  angels  from  the 
ways  of  ravening  beasts  !  Thieves,  thieves  it 
was  !  — 

THE  BAKER  and  THE  FURRIER 

'T  was  that  wolfish  cur, —  that  Beelzebub  of 
a  dog,  that  watched  by  the  pot  when  last  we 
saw  him. —  No,  no!  He  couldn't — He 
would  n't — No,  no!  You  lie! 

THE  CHILDREN 

\weeping\ 

Oh,  oh!  The  pig!  —  The  little  pig — the 
pretty  little  pig  frrm  the  oalace! 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    123 

FRANCIS 
[soothing  them] 

Children,  all  shall  yet  be  well: 
.  .  .  Trust  the  blessed  spell 
Or  this  Vigil  that  we  keep. 
Nay,  beloved,  do  not  weep. 
Mayhap,  for  pity  of  your  case, — 
Friend  Nicolo  will  do  you  grace, 
.  .  .  After  a  little  space. 
[NICOLO,   on   the  street   steps,    raises   his 
hands  in   horror.   Unable  to  argue  with 
FRANCIS,  he  begins  to  count  heads,  with 
increasing  desperation. 

FRANCIS 

[to  the  strangers  smilingly] 
And  pardon,  gentle  Pilgrims  all, 
Our  emptiness,  our  windy  hall. 
Yea,  though  ye  be  full  travel-worn 

Yet  ye  will  think  no  scorn. 
And  though  ye  hunger  verily, 

Pray  you,  bear  with  me. 
Since  neighbor  Nicolo,  indeed 

Hath  his  right  need 


124   THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

To  make  all  ready,  —  to  prepare 

For  guests  so  many  .  .  .  unaware;  — 

[NICOLO'S  despair  bursts  out  afresh~\ 

Holiday  hungers,  many  more 
Than  he  had  reckoned  for ! 

[FRANCIS  takes  the  white  cloth  from  JUNIPER 
who  still  stands  motionless,  and  with  the 
flayful  deliberation  of  a  child,  spreads  it 
on  the  ground  in  the  centre,  while  all 
watch  open-mouthed,  charmed  into  atten 
tion,  —  a  quiet  circle. 

Right,  behind  the  by-standers,  reappears  THE 
WOLF,  rolling  his  eyes  as  if  he  defied  the 
situation,  till  the  voice  of  FRANCIS 
makes  him  also  a  listener,  lost  to  all 
else.  No  one  sees  him.  When  the  folk  sit 
down,  at  FRANCIS*  bidding,  he  starts  up 
with  a  dog's  excitement  at  the  matter 
in  hand,  showing  his  surprise  and  curios 
ity  ;  coming  down,  by  degrees,  nearer  those 
who  sit  with  their  backs  turned  towards 
him.  Pangs  of  conscience  alternate  with 
his  interest,  and  wistful  looks  towards 
FRANCIS. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    125 

FRANCIS 

See.  I  spread  this  fair  white  cloth 
For  our  table.  ...  Be  not  wroth. 

[Coaxixgfy] 

Cheer  thee,  Juniper,  my  brother! 
May  we  not  pledge  one  another 
Circled,  brother-wise,  around?  — 
.  .  .  Here  upon  the  ground? 

\_He  sits :  they  follow  suit~\ 

See.  Our  court  is  acres  wide; 
Guests  flock  in  from  every  side; 
Let  us,  even  as  Love  would, 
Share  the  bread  of  brotherhood. 

Louis 
[to  FRANCIS] 
Savors  of  immortal  cheer 
Fill  us  all  that  listen  here, 
Holy  man  and  dear. 

FRANCIS 

Nay,  sweet  brother :  naught  I  can 
Save  as  a  little,  base  poor  man ! 


126    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

But  you,  of  your  fair  courtesy 
Shall  fill  us  all  with  warmth  and  glee ; 
Yea,  as  it  were  with  minstrelsy  ! 
[The  people   are   quickened;    THE    WOLF 
comes  down,  listening,  behind  the  right- 
band  corner-group.  FRANCIS  turns  eagerly 
to  Louis  and  his  companions. 
As,  at  the  feast,  the  minstrel  chants 
High  deeds  of  knighthood  and  of  war, 
Of  Charles  the  Emperor,  and  sweet  France, 
Ballad  and  gest  and  blithe  romance, — 
Be  ye  our  troubadours  ! 
Tell  us  poor  stay-at-homes  that  be, 
Of  Saracens  beyond  the  sea, — 
Desert  and  palm,  and  holy  shrine; 
Of  Acre,  and  of  Palestine! 
Yea,  —  all  that  won  for  thee  this  sign. 
\He  leans  across  to  Louis,  to  look  at  the 
crusader  s  emblem  upon  the  kings  habit. 
Louis  unfastens  it  and  leans  towards  him 
to  show  it.  —  The  other  knights  do  likewise 
with  theirs,  and  the  villagers  cluster  close. 
Louis  is  clearly  seen  in  profile.  Left,  FRAN 
CIS  facing  the  spectators,  in  the  centre  of 
the  group. 

Enter,  down  left,  —  round  the  corner-wall  of 
THE  FURRIER'S  house,  the  two  thieves, 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    127 

GRILLO  andVECcmo  VECCHIO,  unnoticed 
by  the  crowd. 

They  look  upon  this  gathering  with  open- 
mouthed  surprise,  soon  spying  Louis. 

GRILLO 
[hoarsely] 

It's  himself,  in  spite  of  all; —  the  man  of 
France.   Mark  you  that  nose  ? 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

What  game  are  they  at?  .  .  .  They  've  borne 
off  the  food. 

GRILLO 
[still  staring] 
It's  his  nose. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

And  what  good  is  his  nose  to  me  ?  Do  you 
see  the  miniver  up  his  sleeve? 

GRILLO 

That  nose  ...  I  saw  it  on  horseback  ...  I 
can't  miss  it  afoot.  Look  !  .  .  . 
[They  whisper] 

[THE  WOLF,  to  the  right,  sniffs  warily  high 
in  air,  then  looks  about  for  the  cause  of  his 
unrest. 


128    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  WOLF 

[apart] 

That  scent?  ...  It  can't  be  ...  Wfl 
[He  follows  bis  scent,  left,  and  perceives 
GRILLO  and  VECCHIO  VECCHIO.  At  the 
same  moment  they  see  him. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
Death  of  my  life !  — 

GRILLO 
No,  no,  — 

THE  WOLF 
[ominously] 
Gr-r-r-r  

[People  turn  to  look  at  GRILLO  and  VECCHIC 
VECCHIO,  who  are  struggling  to  join  tht 
circle  for  protection. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO  and  GRILLO 

Gentlemen,  lords —  .  .  .  No  —  no  matter, 

We  are  ...  we  are  very  fond  of  dogs  ! 

I  like  dogs  .  .  .  Dogs  like  me. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    129 

THE  WOLF 

[ferociously] 

SGUARDA!      .     »     .,*     •    <•     .     .     . 

GRILLO 

THE  WOLF  OF  GUBBIO  ! 

[They  rush  out,  mad  with  fright.  —  Gen 
eral  uproar.  —  The  villagers  spring  up 
and  shout,  huddled  together.  —  Louis 
rises  and  his  men  stand  by  him. 
FRANCIS  lifts  his  hand  for  quiet,  and  crosses 
to  THE  WOLF. 

WOMEN 
[screaming] 

Father,  it 's  the  devil  himself —  Seeking  to 
undo  you  !  — 

Ah,  Lupone,  Rubaccio! —  Beast !  Beast ! 

MEN 

Kill  him  — kill  him— kill  him!  No,  it's  a 
dog—  No,  it 's  a  Wolf—  A  dog  — a  Wolf— 
the  Wolf  of  Gubbio,  —  the  Wolf  of  Gubbio  ! 

FRANCIS 
Peace  ! 


130    THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

ALL  THE  PEOPLE 

'Twas  he  emptied  the  pot  !  —  He  stole  the 
broth.  —  I  saw  him  —  I  heard  him  —  I  knew 
it.  The  simple  brother  left  him  alone  with  the 
pot.  'T  was  he  ate  up  our  feast  of  a  year  ! 
'Twas  he  ate  our  chickens  and  sheep  these 
years  gone  by  !  —  No,  no,  it  's  a  dog  !  —  The 
devil's  own  dog  !  — 

—  Look  you!  How  ashamed  he  is  al 
ready  !  Even  as  a  dog  he  is  telling  you,  —  he 
did  it  ! 

[THE  WOLF  goes  abjectly  prostrate  at  the 
feet  of  FRANCIS.  —  The  people  pick  up 
stones. 

FRANCIS 

Hush.  Little  children,  will  you  grieve 
The  heart  of  God  ?  —  This  eve  ? 
Your  brother  has  confessed. 
.......   He  is  your  guest. 

Heavy  indeed  his  debt  to  you,  and  sore. 
—  Forgive  the  more. 


There  is  no  need  to  tell:  you  know. 
This  is  ...  the  Wolf  of  Gubbio. 
[Renewed  rage  and  fear] 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    131 

And  all  these  years,  and  all  these  years, 
He  wrought  you  havoc,  hunger,  tears ; 
He  filled  the  dark  with  fears. 
Yet  this  one  day,  —  from  his  safe  wood, 
He  came  to  crave  your  brotherhood, 

If  ye  but  understood. 
The  dog  that  served  so  faithfully 
This  hour  gone  by,  was  none  but  he. 
...   I  was  the  sinner, —  I, 

To  leave  him  lone 

ALL 

No,  ...  he  must  die! 

He  must  die  !  —  With  a  stake  through  his  heart! 
—  Kill  — kill  — kill  him! 

FRANCIS 

Hark  !  .  .  .  Know  you  not,  on  this  high  feast, 
There  is  a  truce,  'twixt  man  and  beast  ? 

—  Ye  may  not  touch  the  least 
Of  brother  creatures  vengefully  ;  — 
Nor  hurt,  nor  hound  him  that  he  die.  — 
That  pact  between  you,  ye  shall  keep: 
Unless  you  will  Lord  Christ  to  weep, 
....  Even  Lord  Love,  on  high ! 


132    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

My  little  wolves  .  .  .  fear  not !  Let  cease 

Your  anger,  save  it  be  with  me. 

And  Brother  Wolf  shall  go  in  peace. 

\_Murmurs  die  out,  and  spring  up.  The  people 
are  backing  away  fearfully,  when  THE 
DYER'S  WIFE  stumbles  against  one  of  the 
French  knights  and  screams. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

Ah,  ah  !  ...  Look  there,  too !  If  he  have 
not  a  sword  under  the  robe  of  a  holy  palmer ! 
What  pilgrims  are  these  !  What  holiday  for 
poor  folks !  — 

Louis 

[to  FRANCIS,  reassuring  a!I~] 
Yea,  brother,  think  no  ill ;  —  't  is  no  disguise. 
Only  of  wont,  my  men  are  armed  with  swords, 
To  do  you  service ;  seeing  we  are  indeed 
All  fellow-pilgrims  .  .  .  from  the  Holy  Land. 
And  I  ... 

[He  hesitates,  then  says  with  meaning'] 
.  .  .  thy  Brother  Louis  .  .  .   Louis  of  France. 

PEOPLE 

—  Eh,  it  is  a  great  lord  then,  .  .  .  -  •  • 
A  mighty  baron  — !  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    133 

FRANCIS 

[not  knowing  him,  but  with  simplest  blithe 
courtesy} 

And  welcome,  Brother  Louis,  from    sweet 
France ! 

Louis 

Happily  come  ...  to  beg  all  ye,  good  friends, 

[70  the  people] 

Be  guests  of  mine ;  and  suffer  me,  me  too, 
To  bear  a  candle  at  your  festival. 

JUNIPER 

[approaching  timidly] 
My  lord  Sir  Pilgrim  .  .  . 

Louis 

Brother  Juniper? 

Tell  me,  what  can  I,  or  these  gentlemen 
To  speed  the  holy  feast  ? 

JUNIPER 

[in  a  breathless  outburst] 
Ah,    lords    and    barons,    and    Sir    Brother 
Knight !  Your  gentlemen,  there  it  is  !  —  If  they 
might  but  search  the  woods  now,  —  before  sun- 


134    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

down;  nay,  'tis  well-nigh  on  us  ...  but  with 
torches !  Sure,  any  lost  soul  would  follow  a 
torch!  —  And  if  they  could  but  find  and  bring 
and  save,  the  good  man,  and  the  lost  babe, 
of  this  poor  soul  yonder  in  the  ox-shed !  .  .  . 
She  that  is  to  figure  to  us  this  night,  Ma 
donna  Queen  of  Heaven,  with  that  crib,  and  that 
hay,  and  the  ox,  and  the  ass,  and  the  manger  ! 
—  For  except  we  find  and  bring  her  man  to  be 
Holy  Joseph,  and  her  babe  to  be  a  babe  in 
deed, —  the  Blessed  Babe,  —  there  will  be  no 
thing  left  us  for  a  spectacle,  but  a  sorry,  rueful, 
out-of-measure  poor  little  fragment  of  a  Holy 
Family  ! 

Louis 
\warmly\ 

Blest  be  thy  heart,  my  Brother.  We'll  make 
search ! 

FRANCIS 
i       Take  comfort,  Juniper. 


CHILDREN 
To-night !  — 


To-night ! 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    135 

FRANCIS 

—  With  every  man  his  light! 
[They  all  withdraw^  taking  the  longest  way 
round  from  THE  WOLF,  with  reviving 
sullen  murmurs.  FRANCIS  points  to  THE 
WOLF,  solemnly. 
And  keep  the  pact  of  his  release. 

[To  THE  WOLF] 
....   My  Brother,  go  in  peace. 

[They  go  into  tbeir  bouses  and  bar  the  doors. 

Exeunt  Louis  and  his  men  by  the  steps. 

LEO  and  JUNIPER  up,  wait  for  FRANCIS, 

who  lingers  beside  THE  WOLF. 
THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE  calls  from  her  win- 

dow  shrilly. 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

Father,  a  wolf's  a  wolf!  —  Don't  trust  him. 
A  beast  is  n't  a  man,  and  never  will  be.  A  wolf 
will  never  put  on  human  ways  !  —  No,  never, 
never ! 

FRANCIS 
[smiling] 

Ah,  .  .  .  but  yes 
—  When  men  put  off  their  wolfishness. 


136    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

\¥he  light  wanes ;  with  the  quickness  of  sun 
set  in  a  mountain  -place.  —  There  is  a  sound 
of  bolts  drawn  and  doors  barred.  THE 
WOLF  is  still  silent  and  prostrate. 

FRANCIS 
Brother,  and  is  thy  hurt  so  sore  ? 

THE  WOLF 
[muttering] 

'Wolf-at-the-door'  .  .  . 

FRANCIS 

Nay,  go  in  peace.  And  comfort  thee ; 

.  .  .  Behold,  thou  'rt  free. 
\He  points  up,  and  with  a  slow  caress  on 
THE  WOLF'S  bead,  he  goes  out  under  the 
archway  with  LEO  and  JUNIPER.  THE 
WOLF  gets  up  from  the  ground  and  looks 
miserably ,  with  hanging  bead,  at  the  shut 
houses,  right  and  left ;  then  shambles  beaw 
ily  up  the  square,  pausing  midway. 

THE  WOLF 

Yet  have  I  not  deserved  to  be 
Their  by-word  name  for  Misery. 
Men  cast  their  wolfishness  on  me! 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    137 

\_Snarlingly\ 

Big  wolves  and  little,  —  hutch  and  hall, 
Raven  upon  each  other,  all :  — 
Each  on  the  lesser,  —  day  by  day, 
They  snatch  and  cheat  and  rend  their  prey; 
Warring  together,  great  and  small ;  — 
.  .  .  Yes,  warring  all  !  — 
The  very  bread  they  struggled  for, 
They  spill  and  waste  in  war — war 

War !     .  „" 

\Going  up,  and  with  his  paws  on  the  steps, 

he  turns  to  look  back  on  the  square. 
That  day,  when  I  would  gather  more 
Of  ravening  greed,  and  wolfish  lore, 
I  will  seek  out  the  homes  of  Men ; 
I  will  seek  out  their  feasts  again. — 
Let  them  cry  aloud,  and  call  me,  then, 
<Wolf-at-the-Door  .  .  . 

Wolf-at-the-Door! 
Wolf-at-the-Doorl* 


Curtain. 


ACT   III 


'The  Little  Poor  Man  touched  my  heart; 

With  love,  with  love,,  it  broke. 
And  from  my  bonden  death-in-lifey  — 
/  woke. 


ACT  III 


SCENE  :  'The  same  square  at  dusk.  Above  the  arch, 
the  glimpse  of  sky  glows  peacock-blue ;  with 
the  Evening  Star. 

The  archway  is  now  filled  in  with  a  hanging 
composed  of  various  stuffs  and  garments,  — 
deep  green,  blue  and  olive,  fastened  together 
to  make  a  curtain.  At  the  left-hand  edge 
of  this  home-made  curtain,  a  crack  of  light 
gleams  upon  a  string  of  children,  one  behind 
another  who  are  peering  in.  —  The  only  other 
light  comes  from  the  faintly  glimmering  shrine, 
in  the  corner-wall,  which  makes  a  tiny  lunette 
of  dim  color. 

Down  to  the  right,  by  THE  POTTER'S  bench,  THE 
WOLF  watches,  motionless  and  miserable. 

BIMBA,  giving  place  to  another  child  for  a  moment 
at  the  peep-hole,  turns  about  dancingly,  sing 
ing. 

BIMBA 


S 


TAR,  Star! 
Star,  Star ! 


142    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

OTHER  CHILDREN 

[singing  in  little  high  voices] 
Star,  Star ! 
Star,  Star! 

BlMBA 

[peeping  in] 

Look,  look!  Who'd  ever  guess  it  was  the 
woman  of  Foligno?  She  looks  all  shining,  like 
Our  Lady. 

[They  press  together ,  to  see"] 

BIMBO 
But  she  's  been  weeping,  too ;  you  can  see. 

BIMBA 

You  can  see  her  tears  .  .  .  shining  in  the 
torchlight. 

CHILDREN 
[singing] 

Star,  Star, 
Star,  Star ! 

Star,  Star ! 

sound  of  a  song  in  the  distance  attracts 
tbeir  attention  for  an  instant. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    143 

MEN'S  VOICES 

[without] 

The  Lord  of  highest  Heaven, 
Fair  Lord  Emmanuel, 
Shall  come  at  last,  this  even, 
With  famished  men  to  dwell ! 
My  heart,  be  as  a  bell, 

Noel,  Noel! 

And  call  unto  the  calling  stars, 
*  AlPs  well!  All's  well!' 
Noel,  Noel,  Noel! 

THE  WOLF 

[wretchedly,  to  himself] 
The  world  goes  by, 
The  world  goes  by ; 
The  stars  smile  down, 
And  then  pass  by. 

[Looking  up] 

The  great  Star  shines,  and  will  not  see. 
The  small  stars  prick  me  with  their  scorn,, 
Each  look  is  sharper  than  a  thorn  .  .  . 
Love  is  for  every  soul  but  me. 


144    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

BIMBO 

[peering  behind  the  archway  curtain} 
Look  at  the  Ox,  .  .  .  Nicolo's   Ox  !    .   .    . 
They  are  going  to  lead  him  out  .  .  .  Oh!  .  Oh! 

BlMBA 

Now  she  cannot  weep  any  more. 

BIMBO 
His  horns  are  as  wide  as  the  moon  ! 

BlMBA 

Wider  than  the  moon :  .  .  .  wider  than  the 
moon  !  And  his  eyes  are  as  big  as  the  doorway; 
and  his  coat  is  as  white  as  the  snow  !  Oh,  Nicolo's 
Ox  was  never  so  beautiful  before,  —  never,  never 
so  beautiful ! 

THE  WOLF 
The  Ox  ! 

\With  unquenchable  curiosity  he  creeps 
nearer,  lagging  with  jealous  pain.  He  goes 
into  THE  POTTER'S  empty  house,  and  tries 
the  window,  comes  out  restlessly,  goes  to 
LUCREZIA'S  house,  and  thrusts  the  door 
open,  coming  out  to  listen  to  the  sing-song  of 
the  CHILDREN. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    145 

BIMBO 

She  ought  to   be  content  now,  with  every 
body  treating  her  like  the  Queen  of  Heaven. 

BlMBA 

But  it 's  only  for  to-night.  To-morrow  she  '11 

be  just  like  anybody  else,  and  as  if  it  were  last 

Monday ;  .  and  it 's  not  back  to  Heaven  she 

will  be  going,  but  only  to  Foligno.  .  .  .  Besides, 

you  see,  she  wants  her  baby, —  her  own  one! 

[THE  WOLF  drops  bis  nose  wretchedly,  takes 

bis  paws  from  the    sill,    and   sb ambles 

out  with  increasing  dog-like  anguish.  He 

squeezes  behind  the  stone  bench  along  the 

house,  and  rests  his  nose  on  top  of  it,  still 

watching.    'The  Song  approaches,  —  sung 

by  the  Kings  men, off. 

MEN'S  VOICES 

The  stars  that  be  God's  liegemen 
Along  His  towers  on  high, 
They  lift  aloft  their  torches 
To  light  the  dark  hosts  by. 
Men,  each  and  all,  let  cry, 
Noel,  Noel! 


146    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

Call  to  the  stars  above  our  wars, 

<  All 's  well !  All 's  well ! ' 
Noel,  Noel,  Noel! 
[BIMBO  scampers  up  the  steps  after  the  sound"] 

BlMBA 

It 's  the  French   knights,  coming  from  the 
mountain  !  —  They  Ve  found  him,  —  they  Ve 
found  him,  —  they  Ve  found  her  man! 
[Reenter  BIMBO,  from  above"} 

BIMBO 

The  man,  the  man,  the  man,  they  Ve  found 
him  !  They  Ve  bound  him  up,  they  Ve  put  a 
fine  coat  on  him!  .  .  .  He's  coming  to  be 
Holy  Joseph,  —  standing  by  the  Manger. 

CHILDREN 

[ecstatically] 
Holy  Joseph,  standing  by  the  Manger ! 

tent-curtains  part,  and  ASSUNTA  is  seen 
to  look  out  with  agonized  hope.  Enter, 
above,  three  men  with  torches,  conducting 
GIUSEPPE,  a  dark  and  comely  peasant, 
wrapped  in  a  borrowed  cloak,  with  his 
arm  in  a  sling.  ASSUNTA  steps  out,  letting 
the  curtain  fall,  and  stretches  out  her  arms. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    147 

GIUSEPPE 
Assunta,  Assunta  I  — 

ASSUNTA 

•••.."..   The  Bambino  ? 
\¥hey  reach  their  arms  to  each  other,  each 
seeing  that  the  other  has  it  not. 

GIUSEPPE 
Ah! 

[They  embrace  each  other,  in  stricken  silence~\ 

ASSUNTA 
\j>ointing  in\ 
One  there  ...  has  hope  .  .  . 

GIUSEPPE 
Hope?  ...  Ah  ... 

ASSUNTA 

.  .  .  The  Poverello  ! 
[fbey    go    in    despairingly.     THE    WOLF 
cowers  and  listens. 

BlMBA 

\Jo  BIMBO,  coming  down\ 
Oh  ...  do  you  .  .  .  suppose  .  .  .  ? 
BIMBO 

\_defiantly\ 
Nobody  knows. 


148    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 
BIMBA 

[weeping] 

But  .  .  .  if  we  'd  never  run  away, 

To-day  .  .    ? 

She  called,  —  she  did,  ...  to  tell  us  where 
it  lay ! 

BIMBO 

[sulkily] 

And  if  six  men  can't  find  it,  how  could  we 
find  it  ?  We  might  have  been  stolen  ourselves. 

BIMBA 
Oh  !  Oh  !  ...  What  if  the  Wolf— 

BIMBO 

[stoutly] 

He  would  n't  dare  !  —  Would  he  ever  put 
his  nose  in  Gubbio  after  that  ?  Would  n't  he 
be  a  dead  Wolf  now,  if  holy  Francis  had  n't 
made  us  promise?  .  .  .  Who'd  keep  it  after 
that  ?  Come  back  ...  let 's  see  what  they  're 
doing  now.  —  It 's  all  dark  here. 

BIMBA 

Every  candle  up  above  .  .  .  going  round 
the  Duomo.  —  All  the  people,  —  all  the  can- 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO     149 

dies,  going  along  like  little  stars  in  the  dark. 
.  .  .  And  Grandmother  made  a  great  wax- 
light;  and  she's  going  to  let  me  hold  it.  Only 
it  must  keep  from  now  till  the  feast  of  the 
three  Kings  !  .  .  .  Oh  ! 

[Discerning  THE  WOLF'S  bead,  and  backing 

up,  fearfully y  BIMBO  after  her. 
Oh,  come,  come —  quick!  — Stay  close  to 
holy  Francis! 

BIMBO 

He  ...  he  's  asleep  ! 

[fbey  scurry  back  to  the  curtain  and  the  ab 
sorbed  group ,  left. 

THE  WOLF 
I  to  live  on,  alone,  apart, 
Warming  this  pain  in  my  old  heart ! 
Still  with  the  snows  that  melt  and  drip, 
Gnawing  my  paws  for  fellowship  ! 
Looking,  far,  on  the  lights  below  ; 
Little  house-lights  of  Gubbio  ! 
Deb!  .  .  .  Lasso!  ....  Wff.  .  .  . 

[The  curtain  parts  slightly ',  and  FRANCIS 
steps  out  towards  THE  WOLF,  who  goes 
haltingly  to  meet  him. 


150    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 
Brother,  and  didst  thou  call  ?  — 

THE  WOLF 

[huskily] 

Yea,  so. 

How  should  you  know?  .  .  . 

I  only  wait  one  human  sign, 

After  this  life-long,  aching  fast 

Of  silence;  one  more  word  of  thine!  — 

The  last. 

FRANCIS 

The  last  ? 

THE  WOLF 

One  word,  one  man-word  spoken, 
Before  the  midnight  breaks  your  spell, 
And  God  takes  back  His  miracle,  .  .  . 
And  truce  is  broken ! 

FRANCIS 

Ah,  Brother,  this  shall  never  be!  — 
That  any  love  'twixt  thee  and  me 
Be  shattered.  That  were  misery. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    157 

THE  WOLF 

[suffering] 

Oh,  if  you  knew,  .... 
You,  too ! 

And  what  care  I  ?  — 
Liefer  I  am  at  once  to  die, 
Than  feel  slow  fires  of  tortured  pride ; 
Seeing  Love  is;  —  but  I  must  bide 
Forevermore  outside ! 
[JUNIPER  enters  hurriedly  from  behind  the  curtain] 

JUNIPER 

Brother  Francis,  —  Brother  Francis,  —  the 
people  will  be  coming  now.  Once  around  the 
Duomo  they  are  going  !  [Pointing  above  ^\  And 
oh,  Brother  Francis,  they  will  see  a  miracle  this 
night;  —  they  will  hear  praise  from  the  Ox  and 
the  Ass!  For  the  Ass  is  taking  thought,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  torches;  and  the  breath  of 
the  Ox  goes  up  like  incense,  marvellous  warm 
and  white  on  the  cold  of  the  air  !  Let  us  watch 
for  the  miracle  ! 

[FRANCIS  goes  up,  beckoning  THE  WOLF  to 
stay.  The  CHILDREN  cluster  round  JUNI 
PER  and  the  curtain.  THE  WOLF  with 
draws  slowly  down. 


152    THE   WOLF  OF    GUBBIO 

CHILDREN 
O  Brother  Juniper,  O  Brother  Juniper! 

BlMBA 

Will  he  speak  this  night?  Will  the  Ox 
speak  ?  —  So  that  we  all  can  hear  ? 

JUNIPER 

Why  not,  little  fledglings,  why  not  ?  Since 
the  Holy  Night  is  drawing  on;  and  only  now 
he  moved  his  great  eyes  towards  me ;  and  I 
heard  with  my  heart  as  it  were  the  sound  of  a 
bell !  Have  faith  !  Have  patience.  — 

CHILDREN 
What  will  the  Ox  say  ? 

JUNIPER 

Why,  he  will  praise  the  Lord,  surely.  But 
whether  with  Hosanna  or  Our  Father,  I  cannot 

tell. 

[Bell  sounds  from  the  Duomd] 

CHILDREN 
Oh!  Oh! 

[Some  scamper  up  the  steps  to  join  the  pro 
cession  above.  A  few  remain  with  their 
noses  at  the  crack  of  light. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    153 

THE  WOLF 

\Jooking  up  towards  the  bell~\ 
Yea,  and  I  hear!  Oh,  rarely  well 
You  wove  the  spell  .  .  . 
Beckoning  voice  far-off,  ....  Bell! 

[The  bell  sounds'} 

Warm,  and  softly,  you  led  below, 
Here,  to  the  men  of  Gubbio !  — 
Out  of  that  lone  and  listening  wood, 
Dreaming  a  dream  of  brotherhood  !  — 

[Bitterly] 

Hush  ; — wait;  you  shall  sound  my  knell. 
Only  a  little!  —  I  come  again. — 
Only  a  few  sands  more,  and  then  .  .  . 

[>//]  ' 

Farewell !  [He  runs  out,  wildly,  right. 

[Enter  down,  also  from  the  right,  the  two 
thieves,  VECCHIO  VECCHIO  and  GRILLO, 
puzzled  at  the  changed  aspect  of  the 
square,  by  reason  of  the  blocked  archway. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

What 's  towards,  now  ?  This  is  the  maddest 
lunatic  town  I  ever  fell  on  !  — 


154  THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

GRILLO 

Will  you  see  that?  Where  is  the  gateway 
gone?  Were  we  not  here  ?  Or  have  we  rounded 
on  ourselves? 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Per  Bacco  !  Thou  'rt  besotted.  This  is  the 
place ;  the  very  place  where  we  sat  waiting  for 
them  to  set  on  the  food.  Look  you,  the  same. 
The  archway  there  is  blocked  with  some  holi 
day  show. 

GRILLO 

An  ever  I  am  able  to  tell  east  from  west 
again, —  or  right  from  left,  or  a  wolf  from  a 
man  !  We  were  fools  to  take  to  our  heels. 
But  when  I  saw  the  old  devil  there,  rearing 
and  bristling,  even  as  this  morning  on  the 
mountain  .  .  .  \_Shivers.~]  ...  I  see  wolves 
everywhere  ! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

\laughing  feebly\ 

Thou  'It  be  telling  it  was  a  Wolf  we  passed 
now  in  the  dark  .  .  .  running  possesst  through 
the  brambles,  —  in  too  much  haste  to  eat  us! 
,  ,  ,  But  if  it  had  been  the  Wolf  indeed,  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    155 

he  were  slain  and  skinned  by  this,  and  his  ears 
nailed  up  on  the  gate —  ! 

\¥hey  ins  feet  tbe  house  front  s~\ 

GRILLO 
\rallying\ 

Thou  'rt  right,  Old  Cheese  !  'Tis  the  place, 
and  the  arch,  and  the  lower  square,  of  the  lordly 
city  of  Gubbio. —  [Pointing.]  Duomo ; — foun 
tain  ;  —  tanner's,  —  by  the  breath  of  this  byway  ! 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
[fointing\ 

And  by  this  master  show  .  .  .  What  if  .  .  . 
[Approaching  THE  FURRIER'S] 

GRILLO 

No,  no,  show  me  first  what 's  back  of  yon 
gallimaufry  curtain.  Show  me  first  where  lies 
the  man  of  France! 

[They  tiptoe  towards  the  curtain] 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Oho  !  And  this  is  the  day  when  friars  feast. 
Wine  flowing  freely ;  and  some  noble  show  set 
forth,  not  without  noble  gazers,  unannounced. 


156    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

[Speaking  back  to  GRILLO] 
'Follow  me  on!y    ...  Then,  lordings,  by 

your  leaves, 

—  An  if  it  please  you 

\Enter  from  the  archway,  FRANCIS,  his  eyes 
fully  smiling  on  the  two,  without  surprise. 

FRANCIS 

Welcome,  .  .  .  Brother  Thieves! 

[They  stand  rooted  to  the  earth,  —  robbed 
of  their  breath,  —  like  creatures  at  bay. 
FRANCIS  lets  the  curtain  fall  behind  him, 
and  steps  out  into  the  dusk  towards  them, 
encouragingly,  shading  his  eyes  a  moment, 
the  better  to  see.  He  speaks  with  friend 
liest  cheer. 

Nay,  beseech  you,  do  not  go. 

So  the  torch-light  dazzled  me, 

.  .  .  Hardly  might  I  know. 

Yea,  but  now,  in  verity, 

Seeing  it  is  none  but  ye, 

Brothers,  of  your  courtesy, 

Do  not  go. 

I  will  not,  Brothers,  that  ye  be 

Such  castaways  of  misery, — 

And  your  lives  in  jeopardy, 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    157 

.  .  .   Men  under  ban  :  — 

Nay,  but  each  one  a  joyful  mt  n. 

Come  in,  come  hither,  and  in  God's  name, 

Suffer  ye  now  no  blame. 

[fbeir  faces  are  convulsed  with  doubt, 
amazement,  irony. 

But  take  your  comfort,  and  draw  near, 

.  .  .  Without  hurt  or  fear. 

Warm  your  hearts  against  this  sight !  — 

Since  our  Lord  is  host  to-night. 

—  I  will  be  your  warranty, 

Men  shall  do  you  right. 

[They  come  down  slowly  as  if  they  were  un 
able  to  walk.  FRANCIS  goes  up  the  steps 
to  meet  the  procession. 

GRILLO 

\wanly  trying  to  chuckle] 
'  Such  misery  !  ' 

[His  face  is  twisted  with  want, 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

[dully] 
*  Hurt  or  fear!'    But  it  was  he  ... 


158   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

GRILLO 

It  was  he  ...  the  same.   It  was  he  of  the 
woods  this  morning  ...  a  little  thin  fellow. 
^Twitching  bis  fingers  as  if  be  remembered 

bis  clutcb  of  ST.  FRANCIS*  shoulder. 
...  I  am  stark  madman  now,  I  know. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
[as  the  voices  approach] 
We  durst  not  stay.  .  .  . 

GRILLO 

....  We  durst  not  go! 
procession  comes  down  the  steps  led  by 
two  Pijferari;  the  French  knights  sing- 
ingy  with  Louis;  then  the  women;  then 
the  men;  all  with  candles;  FRANCIS  andF^A 
LEO  falling  in  last.  GRILLO  and  VECCHIO 
VECCHIO  withdraw,  down  to  the  left, 
clearly  not  daring  to  run  away ;  and 
watch  all  that  happens,  surprised  into 
open-mouthed  subjection. 

THE  KNIGHTS 

Now  fair  lord  Gabriel  speed  us 
Who  march  not  forth  to  war; 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO   159 

But  seeking  out  that  little  Child 

And  following  on  the  Star  ! 

All  we  His  liegemen  are;  — 
Noel,  Noel!  — 

Both  shepherd-folk  and  men  of  might,  • 

And  kings  that  come  from  far ! 
Noel,  Noel,  Noel! 

\_As  they  range  themselves  by  the  upper  ar 
cades  expectantly,  right  and  left,  FRANCIS 
stands  forth  before  the  curtain. 

FRANCIS 

Welcome,  beloved  !  Welcome  ye 

All  met  in  one  glad  company ; 

Each  one  a  singing  and  a  light 

To  praise  the  holy  night !  — 

Like  little  sorry  stars  we  are, 

And  dim  and  small  and  late  and  far, 

That  follow  the  one  Star. 

But  yet  one  treasure  do  we  bring, 

As  liegeman  to  their  king :  — 

Love,  love,    down-showered,  —  and  love 

outpoured 

Over  the  world,  on  every  thing, 
From  Love  that  is  sole  lord. 


160    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

\Writh  the  radiance  of  a  cbild~\ 
O  heart !  thou  little  rueful  cup, 
Fill  thee  brimful ;  be  lifted  up  ! 
O  heart,  —  thou  little  cup  of  earth, 
What  should  be  likened  to  thy  mirth 
Or  to  the  radiancy  thereof, 

So  thou  wert  filled  with  Love  ? 
No  heart  so  dark  nor  so  forlorn 
That,  if  it  were  fulfilled  of  Love, 
The  star  that  most  exults  above, 
Could  laugh  his  gift  to  scorn. 
But  then  indeed  the  stars  shall  sing 
With  men,  for  glory  of  one  thing:  — 
When  that  True  Love  is  born. 

CHILDREN 

Star,  Star, 
Star,  Star!  .  .  J 

FRANCIS 

Ah,  dearest  ones,  there  is  one  word  to  telL 
Where  Love  is  not, can  be  no  miracle:  — 
Where  Love  is,  ...  All  is  well ! 

THE  PEOPLE 

Noel,  Noel! 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    161 

FRANCIS 
[at  the  curtain] 

Now,  Love  Himself  shall  be  our  Host; 

And  not  in  castle  nor  in  hall, 

But  yonder,  in  a  stall  ... 

Even  as  an  outcast  stranger, 

Fain  to  be  homeless  with  the  uttermost. 

Behold,  .  .  .  the  Manger! 
[LEO  and  JUNIPER  draw  back  the  cur 
tains.  Torch-light  turns  the  archway  to 
a  golden  lunette,  with  its  Holy  Family. 
ASSUNTA  robed  as  the  Virgin  leans  above 
an  empty  manger ;  GIUSEPPE,  grave  and 
comely^  as  ST.  JOSEPH,  with  a  crook; — 
at  back  the  great  white  Oxy  behind  a  bin 
of  hay,  and  the  Ass  beside.  The  back 
ground  is  filled  with  hangings  and  green- 
ery.  'The  people  are  struck  with  awe  and 
delight. 

GRILLO 

[down  to  VECCHIO  VECCHIO] 
Are  we  living  or  dead  ? 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
If  we  be  dead,  then  this  is  Judgment. 


162    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

GRILLO 
[in  a  whisper] 

Nay,  it  is  the  town  of  Gubbio  .  »  .  and 
the  man  yon,  ...  is  the  man  ...  on  the 
cliff  .  .  . 

VECCHIO    VECCHIO 

And  ....    She  is  ... 

GRILLO 

The  woman  of  Foligno.  .  .  . 

[At  the  close  of  the  Noel  above,  THE  WOLF 
has  reappeared  down  by  THE  POTTER'S 
wall,  breathless,  burrs  and  brambles  in  his 
coat  and  ears.  He  looks  and  retreats ;  reap 
pears  in  the  open  doorway  of  OLD  Lu- 
CREZIA'S  house,  and  watches  there  awhile. 
He  is  panting,  and  evidently  in  extrem 
ity  of  wretchedness.  No  one  sees  him;  all 
are  rapt  in  the  welcome  of  ST.  FRANCIS. 
BIMBO  and  BIMBA  explain  all  to  OLD 
LUCREZIA,  who  listens  with  beatific  plea 
sure. 

BIMBA 

— And  Blessed  Mary  the  Virgin,  —  and 
Holy  Joseph,  and  the  Manger ! 


THE  WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    163 

BIMBO 

—  And  Joseph  has  a  crook. 

BIMBA 

—  And  Mary  has  a  veil.  And  the  Ox  and 
the  Ass  are  there  ! 

BIMBO 
And  torches,  —  lights  in  every  place ! 

LUCREZIA 
I  feel  them  shining  ...  on  my  face. 

FRANCIS 

Come  then,  beloved,  and  draw  near ; 

Let  us  make  offering  here. 

For  we,  that  be  not  great  nor  wise, 

Shall  we  not  gladden  our  poor  eyes, 

Even  to  the  last  and  least, 

Like  wise  men  from  the  East  ?  — 

Yea,  surely  !     Could  we  see  indeed 

Our  Lady  in  her  hour  of  need; 

The  Blessed  Mother,  glorified, 

Above  this  cradle-side, 

Would  not  our  hearts  receive  their  sight, 

And  we  go  glad  this  night  ? 


164    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Ah,  dearest,  could  we  but  have  known 
The  days  Love  came  unto  His  own  !  — 
His  one  reproach  no  more  but  this, — 
(  Thou  gavest  Me  no  kiss/ 

[He  turns  towards  ASSUNTA] 
Bring  we  our  treasure,  and  no  less. 
So  shall  it  be  that  for  her  cold 
And  want,  and  sorrow,  sevenfold, 
She  shall  have  more  than  heart  can  hold 

Of  blessedness. 

Love  make  our  offerings  to  her, 
Gold,  and  frankincense  and  myrrh  ! 

[He  beckons  first  to  the  CHILDREN,  who 
go  up  one  by  one,  with  their  gifts,  BIMBO 
and  BIMBA  speaking,  the  others  dumbly 
following  ;  all  watched  with  rapt  interest 
by  the  neighbors  craning  their  necks. 

BIMBO 

I  have  a  cricket  here  for  mine  ! 

I  caught  it,  last  Ascension  Day ; 

And  I  gave  it  grass,  and  drops  of  wine. — 

And  when  it  rubs  its  wings 

Together,  —  then  it  sings  ! 

And  I  made  this  cage  for  him,  out  of  rushes  \ 

And  it 's  just  like  our  thrush's  !  .  .  . 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    165 

Holy  Bambino  '11  love  to  play 
With  that  in  heaven,  some  day  ! 
[ASSUNTA  receives  if,  smiling  faintly  ~\ 

BlMBA 

[offering  her  plaited  basket] 

O  holy  Francis,  —  I  mean  .  .  .    O    Blessed 

Mother ! 
That  boy  was  Bimbo  .  .  .  and  I  'm  just  the 

other. 

This  one  I  made,  Madonna,  this  one  here  ! 
And  I  began  it  long  ago, —  last  year. 
And  Granddam  made  it  too,  at  harvest-moon  ; 
But  I  finished  it  again,  this  afternoon. 

[The  other  children  follow,  proffering  their 

^  gift*. 

'The  Brothers  tie  white  goose-wings  to  the 

shoulders  of  BIMBO  and  BIMBA,  who  beam 
with  pride  in  their  angelhood.  'Their  grand 
mother  explains  to  OLD  LUCREZIA. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  The  finest  white  goose  feathers  ! 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

—  Fine,  I  vow ! 


i66    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  DYER 

—  My  boy  Gentile  ought  to  see  them  now ! 
[LuciA  advances  first  of  the  maidens,  with  a 
bright  scarf. 

BIMBO 
[calling  out"] 

Take  care  it's  nice,  Lucia,  what  you  bring! 
We  're  angels  now ;  —  we  can  see  everything  ! 

LUCIA 

[humbly  to  ASSUNTA] 
Lady,  this  kerchief  for  your  neck,  .  .  . 
The  best  I  have. —  It  is  not  worn  at  all. 
Saving  it  was  I,  for  the  festival 
Of  the  three  Kings.  .  .  . 
The  best  of  all  my  things. 
Lady,  I  pray  you,  wear  it,  to  make  fine. 

OTHER  GIRLS 

—  And  mine ! 

—  And  mine ! 

—  And  mine ! 

\*They  flock  towards  ASSUNTA,  and  touched 
with  new  awe  as  they  approach,  offer 
their  ribbons  and  withdraw  softly. 


THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO    167 
LUCREZIA 

[listening  with  smiling  blindness"} 
And  is  it  our  maidens  ? —  What  are  they  doing, 
Softly  as  doves  ?  .  .  .  All  feathers,  ...  all  coo 
ing ! 

\_Beckonedby  FRANCIS,  THE  BAKER  hobbles 
up  on  bis  cane,  with  a  loaf  under  each 
arm  and  a  bulging  Docket.  *There  is  the 
same  homely  warmth  with  the  gift,  and 
awe  at  the  group  before  bimy  as  be  ex- 
plains  his  offering. 

THE  BAKER 

Lady,  Madonna,  .  .  .  think  no  scorn  ; 
I  kneaded  and  baked  since  I  was  born. — 
Milk-white  loaves,  and  both  for  you.  .  .  . 

\_Fumbling  in  his  pockets'] 
Something  for  Holy  Joseph,  too.  — 
Eggs  of  the  silk-worm  !  There's  a  beginning:  — 
Once  ye  have  them  hatched  and  spinning, 
Each  of  them  in  his  own  cocoon, — 
Eh,  —  eh  ?  Ye  know  ?  —  Ye  can  learn  all  soon. 
[Starts  to  go  and  turns  back,  feeling  in  the 

other  pocket. 

Ehi,  I  am  old  in  the  wits,  look  you ! 
Here  are  three  slips  of  mulberry,  too; 


i68    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Ripe  to  set.  —  If  ye  had  no  more, 
'T  would  help  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door! 
Blessing  and  Hail!  —  And  so,  farewell;  — 
Go  safe,  with  glorious  Gabriel ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

[to  LUCREZIA] 
Listen  to  him  ! 

LUCREZIA 

\laughing  with  pleasure] 

Old  neighbor, — you?  .  .  . 
And  his  voice  all  shining  over  with  dew! 

[FRANCIS  beckons  to  THE  POTTER,  who 
wipes  his  forehead  and  approaches  with 
his  gift ;  looking  about  y  awe-struck,  on  the 
Manger  and  the  group. 

THE  POTTER 
[crossing  himself] 

Was  it  like  this  ?  Was  it  like  this  ? 
Hay  in  the  stable  ?  .  .  .   Lady  of  Bliss  ! 

[Humbly  offers  his  bowl,  holding  it  up  also 
for  JOSEPH'S  inspection. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    169 

Madonna,  't  is  a  little  bowl ; 

Yet  masterly  made,  and  whole. 

Look  you,  and  it  is  lipped  both  ways  ; — • 

One  side  for  hunger ;  one  for  praise. 

Good  measure  it  will  hold! 

Eh?  .  .  . 

I  would  not  have  it  scrawled  and  scrolled ; 

The  very  way  —  \Cbecking  himself. 

No,  no,  .  .  .  look  here, 

Burnished  and  bright,  and  fountain-clear, 

My  ruddy  glaze !    \_Polisbing  it  witb  bis  sleeve. 

And,  woman  dear, 

[  Fumbling  in  bis  cloak  for  a  small  bowl~\ 
For  Him  .  .  .  and  in  His  name,  ye  wit, 

\Pointing  to  the  Manger] 
A  little  fine  one,  like  to  it; 
If  he  be  found  again  .  .  .  Ah,  well ! 
Misericordia  !  Who  can  tell  ? 

[ASSUNTA  is  agitated] 
Holy  Joseph  ...  I  wish  ye  well. 


THE  DYER 

\Jo  his  wife] 
Now  you,  Giannina,  you  can  speak  for  two* 


170    THE   WOLF    oj?    GUBBIO 

His  WIFE 

No,  you  go  first.    No,  I  will,  and  then  you! 

[Tbey  go  up  together,  towards  ASSUNTA] 
Madam,  I  ...  here!       \_Presentingberlinen. 

...  I  wove  it  with  these  hands  ; 
As  any  one  can  see  that  understands. 
And  it's  fair  linen,  one  can  tell, —  the  best; 
And  from  the  finest  flax  I  ever  dressed ! 
And  here  's  the  border,  and  it 's  all  for  you. 

THE  DYER 

\_witb  bis  offering] 
—  And  this  one,  too  .  .  . 

His  WIFE 
Dved  with  the  purest  saffron ! 

THE  DYER 

—  Precious  blue ! 

THE  WIFE 
The  goodliest  color  .  .  . 

THE  DYER 
—  Ay,  the  blue  's  our  pride. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    171 

His  WIFE 

There  's  but  a  little  left,  of  all  inside  — 
And  it  will  last  you  fourscore  years  and  ten ! 
[She  chokes  with  human  emotion  at  sight  of 

the  empty  Manger; — so  does  THE  DYER, 

as  they  turn  away. 
And  then  — 

THE  DYER 

And  then, 

You  '11  hand  it  down.  — 

His  WIFE 

—  'T  will  last  you  all  your  life  ! 

[6^  vainly  tries  to  keep  him  from  speaking"] 

THE  DYER 

—  Yes,  iron-strong,  each  one  .  .  . 

And  you  will  hand  them  down,  unto  your  son.— 
Well,  well,  if  not  your  son  then,  to  his  wife  ! 

\_She  leads  him  away] 
What  ails  thee,  woman  ? 

His  WIFE 
[  weeping] 

.  Oh! 


172    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  DYER 

Whatever 's  at  her  ? 

Spilling  out  tears  and  chatter  ? 

His  WIFE 

Thou  blundering  man  —  ( Hand  down '  —  Oh  ! 

Oh! 
The  babe,  that  will  be  perished  in  the  snow  ! 

THE  WOLF 

\with  a  moan  from  bis  covert] 
Deby  —  Guai,  Guai  I 

[VECCHIO  VECCHIO  and  GRILLO,  still  cowed, 
look  across  at  THE  WOLF,  while  others 
follow  THE  DYER  and  His  WIFE  with 
their  homely  offerings. 

GRILLO 
—  What?  — 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 
'T  is  a  dog. 

GRILLO 

No ;  't  is  the  same  .  .  . 
The  Wolf,  —  I  care  not.  —  \Dully. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    173 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

Spent,  or  lame, 

He  is;  none  heeds  him.   Look  you,  —  tame! 

GRILLO 

Ay,  it  is  he  ...  And  he  is  sad, 

Even  as  a  man;  or  charmed,  .  .  or  mad. 

[THE    FURRIER  and  His  WIFE  step  for 
ward  with  beaming  satisfaction. 

THE  FURRIER 
Madonna  Virgin  —  \fTo  his  wife.~\  Nay,  let  me ! 

His  WIFE 
Man,  hold  it  up,  so  all  can  see. 

THE  FURRIER 
EC  c  o  !  — 
[Displaying  a  large  fur  hood  with  many  tails] 

NEIGHBORS 

—  Ah!  ah!  — 

But  that  is  rare !     - 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

There ! 

Wrought  with  most  cunning  .  .  . 


174    THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

THE  FURRIER 

.  .  .  Finest  vair  1 
Eh  ?  Parti-colored,  —  out  and  in; 
Matched  of  the  softest  squirrel-skin, 

His  WIFE 
—  And  set  about  with  all  these  tails! 

THE  FURRIER 

Soft  as  the  breath  of  nightingales   .  <  . 
Soft  as  a  new-born  .  .  . 

His  WIFE 
.  .  Nay  now,  .  .  .  hush  f 


THE  FURRIER 
[looking  at  the  Manger] 

Soft  as  a thrush  ! 

And,  Lady,  look  you  .  .  .  if  you  should 
Find  him  again,  but  if  you  could-^ 

His  WIFE 

—  Nay,  't  is  too  large  for  that,  this  hood ! 
\Leading  him  back ;  be  turns  and  calls  over 
bis  shoulder. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    175 

THE  FURRIER 

But  if  he  be  lost,  as  they  have  said, — 
Why,  ye  might  sell  it  then,  instead  ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

\aside\ 

Ah,  furs  will  never  warm  the  dead. 
[FRANCIS  comes  down  himself ^  and  leads 
OLD  LUCREZIA  tenderly ,  towards  the 
Manger.  She  seems  to  feel  her  way  by  the 
warmth  and  light,  and  reaches  her  arms  out, 
her  face  filled  with  beatitude. 

LUCREZIA 

Look  down,  Madonna.  —  If  it  be 

Thy  will  to  make  an  old  heart  glad, 

Shine  upon  me.  .  .  . 

Beautiful  sons  I  had ; 

Beautiful  daughters.  — All  are  gone; 

And  the  daylight,  that  shone. 

Ay,  all  their  sweetness,  it  is  cold  .  .  „ 

And  I  am  very  old. 

But  this  I  take  my  comfort  in, 

Madonna,  where  I  sit  and  spin; 

Dreaming  I  ever  make 

White  things,  for  thy  dear  sake  .  .  « 


176    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

And  for  thy  blessed  Son  .  .  . 

[Offering  a  little  garment  blindly] 
See,  Lady,  it  is  done. 

[She  approaches  the  Manger  and  touches  the 

edge. 

And  was  it  so,  the  Holiest  lay? 
Even  as  a  lamb,  among  the  hay  ? 

FRANCIS 
Yea,  Mother,  even  so. 

LUCREZIA 

Ah,  could  I  only  touch,  and  know! 

Ah,  she  will  think  no  scorn, 

If  I  but  feel,  who  never  saw, — 

How  warm  He  lay,  the  Babe  new-born, 

Warm  bowered  in  the  straw !  .  .  . 

[She  gropesy  with  a  worshipping  face ',  about 
the  Manger.  Suddenly  her  face  clouds  with 
fain.  ASSUNTA  and  GIUSEPPE  are  shaken 
with  irrepressible  grief. 

Ah  !  —  It  is  empty.  [ASSUNTA  weeps. 

FRANCIS 

[soothingly] 

Till  we  find 

That  which  is  lost.  Nay, — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    177 
LUCREZIA 

I  am  blind! 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 

—  Madonna  's  weeping  ! 

OTHERS 
\dismay  ed~\ 

Weeping!  Oh, 
What  an  ill  omen  ! 

FRANCIS 

Nay,  not  so. 

The  tears  of  this  Our  Lady  here 
Shall  haply  wash  our  poor  eyes  clear. 
Only  her  holy  grief,  maybe, 
Could  make  us  see ! 
For  had  we  cherished,  yesterday, 
These  two  that  fared  their  lonely  way,— 
Had  we  but  kept  this  Mother  here, 
Even  as  Our  Lady  dear, — 
Nor  sent  her,  as  a  scattered  leaf, 
Not  caring  whitherward,  nor  how, — 
We  should  not  stand  all  shamefast  now, 
Before  her  grief. 


178    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

But  she  who  hath,  for  some  high  grace, 
Madonna's  tears  upon  her  face, — 
Even  to  us  who  wrought  her  pain, 
Will  she  not  give  us  wondrously, 
Out  of  Our  Lady's  treasury 
Pardon  and  peace,  again  ? 
[ASSUNTA  recovers  herself  and  looks  up,  smil 
ing;  GIUSEPPE  strokes  her  shoulder,  and 
looks  up  likewise. 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 
Ay  now,  he  says  it  and  it 's  true,  too ! 

THE  FURRIER'S  WIFE 

And  some  of  it  for  me  and  you  too  ! 

For  if  we'd  kept  them  here  that  day 

When  Nicolo  sent  them  all  away 

So  they  were  robbed  in  the  woods  there,  may  be — 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 
They  would  never  have  lost  their  baby ! 

THE  BAKER 

—  Then  we'd  have  had  the  Holy  Bambino! 
Nicolo's  fault.  — 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    179 

LUCIA 

But  how  could  he  know?  — 

[NICOLO  bears  and  protests.  The  murmur 
springs  up,  while  others  are  passing  before 
the  Manger. 

LUCIA 

[To  THE  DYER'S  WIFE] 
Look  at  your  two  little  angels  there, 
In  the  goose-wings  they're  fit  to  wear! 

—  Were  they  not  telling  they  heard  a  cry? 

THE  FURRIER 

—  Did  ever  they  search  for  the  babe,  put  by  ? 

THE  FURRIER'S   WIFE 

—  Search?     Not    they!    Would    they   try    to 

find  — 

LUCIA 

—  Running  with  never  a  look  behind  ! 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

Say  as  you  will  .  .  .  From  last  to  first, 
We  're  all  but  sinners. 


180    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

LUCIA 

We  're  not  the  worst ! 

Who  would  call  it  a  mortal  sin, 

To  clear  out  all  comers,  out  of  the  Inn?  — 

Were  we  not  told,  to  take  and  prepare 

And  make  all  ready  and  fine  and  fair, 

And    empty   and   splendid  for   these    French 

knights?  — 
And  a  great  lord  with   them,  that  none  did 

know, 

Coming  to  lodge  in  Gubbio, 
And  to  see  the  sights  ?  — 
And  if  they  never  had  come  then,  maybe 
Those  two  wouldn  't  have  lost  the  baby  1 

THE  POTTER 
[piping  up  again] 

Then  we  'd  have  had  the  Holy  Bambino ! 
—  Nicolo's  fault ! 

NICOLO  and  LUCIA 

\at  bay] 
,  But  how  could  we  know  ? 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    181 

JUNIPER 
[who  has  been  faying  his  homage  to  the  group,  and 

ever  watching  the  live-stock  with  expectancy; 

he  -points  to  the  Ox~] 

See,  Brother  Francis,  how  he  looks  and  hears  !  — 
And  Brother  little  Ass  ...  he  turns  his  ears, 
Will  they  not  speak  ? 
To  comfort  this  our  Lady,  for  the  tears 
Upon  her  cheek? 

CHILDREN 
Oh,  will  he  speak?  Oh,  will  he  speak? 

NICOLO 

[desperately] 

No  !  No  !  —  He  will  not  speak  !  Father 
Francis,  sweet  little  father  Francis,  —  God  for 
bid  that  my  Ox  should  turn  and  speak!  Mir 
acles,  miracles  enough,  can  there  not  be  ?  — 
with  sheep  and  birds  and  little  fishes?  —  but 
that  mine  Ox  should  turn  out  to  be  no  Ox  at 
all? — Whatever  could  I  do  now,  if  he  spoke? 
—  Me  walking  after  him  at  the  plough,  and  he 
talking  back  to  me  !  .  .  .  What  would  he  be 
saying  to  me?  —  What  would  he  be  saying?  — 
What  good  would  it  do,  what  good  would  it 


182    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

do  any  man  here  if  he  spoke?  —  What  would 
my  shame  be,  ever  after,  —  putting  him  under 
the  yoke? 

NEIGHBORS 
What 's  happened  to  Nicolo  ?  Is  he  singing? 

NICOLO 

\trately\ 

Singing! — I?  —  It  's  the  simple  truth  I  am 
telling  you.  Say  no  more,  blessed  Francis, — 
Brother  Juniper!  You  have  not  to  say  a  word. 
—  And  listen,  Our  Lady,  turn  not  aside. — 

Listen,  ah,  do  not  frown  ! 

[Moved  at  bimself~\ 
Listen,  Madonna, —  Oh,  Holy  Child!  — 

.  .  .   My  heart  is  upside-down. 
For  was  I  not  saving  the  space,  now  ? 
And  were  we  not  all  to  give  place,  now?  — 
Stable  and  inn, — and  bed  and  board 
For  these  noble  men  coming  from  France, — 

Ay,  and  their  lord  ? 

Now  hearken  you  two,  —  and  hearken  all!  — 
You  shall  take  of  the  goodliest  of  my  stall; 
To  be  your  comfort  and  your  stay;  — 
[Nigh  weeping~\ 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    183 

Finer  there  is  not,  no,  palfrey  nor  pony  ! 
Take,  and  take  home,  —  and  ride  him  away  :  — 
Pantaleone  !  [Pointing  to  the  Ass. 

Pantaleone, —  my  donkey  there; 

[The people  stirred  to  enthusiasm] 
So  mild,  and  nimble,  and  sage  and  fair ; 
Yes,  and  his  bridle  too,  beside;  — 
Ah,  what  will  you  ?  —  Now  you  shall  ride 
As  the  Holy  Ones  fled  into  Egypt,  they  say 

and  they  sing,  — 
From  Herod  the  King! 

NEIGHBORS 

Bravo!  Bravo!  Bravo  Nicolo ! — 
—  Not  that  a  donkey  is  as  good  as  a  child, 
but   a  fine   donkey  it  is,  too! — Ah,  Evviva 
Pantaleone ! 

[Louis  advances  with  a  golden  casket  in  his 
bands. 

Louis 

My  fellow-pilgrims,  ye  have  heard 
Nicole's  word. 

How  all  mischances  here  that  be, 
Befell   .  .   .  because  of  me : 
Unwitting  how  my  too  much  state 
Would  dispossess  the  desolate. 


184    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Lady,  I  have  no  gift  to  bring 

Worthy  the  most  high  King. 

Well  do  I  see,  in  gold  too  late, 

There  is  no  kind  of  mirth.  — 

It  is  no  more  but  yellow  earth. 

Yet,  tho'  I  may  not  see  thy  tears  consoled, 

Yet,  I  beseech  thee  take 

This  offering  for  Love's  sake, 

Not  weighed  in  gold. 

\_Sbe  bears  with  grave  sweetness ;  the  peo 
ple  murmur,  and  stretch  their  necks  to  see. 

THE  PEOPLE 

—  Look,  look,  his  offering! 

—  It  might  be  from  a  King, 

—  What  is  it?  — 

—  What  but  gold  ? 

—  She  weeps ! 

—  And  yet,  'tis  gold. 

—  Ah,  who  could  be  consoled?  — 

THE  WOLF 
[moaning  apart] 

Deb  !  Lasso,  —  Guai,  —  Guai ! 

[THE  KING  and  bis  men  withdraw;  ASSUNTA 
is  clearly  seen,  looking  out  with  wide  eyes  of 
grief  above  the  gold  casket,  motionless. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    185 

THE  DYER'S  WIFE 

—  Ah,  how  could  she  forget? 

THE  BAKER 

[pityingly'} 

—  Madonna's  weeping  yet. 

[GRILLO  starts  toward  the  Manger  as  om 
in  a  trance.  VECCHIO  VECCHIO  seeks  to 
stay  him,  then  falls  back,  under  the  same 
spell. 

GRILLO 

[vacantly] 

Madonna  ...  I  know  not  .  .  .  what  to  say. 
[ASSUNTA  looks  at  him;  and  her  eyes  widen 
as  she  recognizes  him.  GIUSEPPE  lifts  his 
head  too,  and  his  face  grows  tense ;  both 
are  rigid,  with  the  awe  of  their  sacred 
characters  struggling  against  human  pain. 
GRILLO  speaks  as  a  broken  man,  but 
younger. 

I  was  ...  a  farer  by  this  way, — 
.  .  .  Only  to-day. 

Madonna  .  .  .    look  you,  I  have  sinned. 
This  cloak  .  .  .  that  warmed   you   from  the 
wind,  — 

[Holding  it  up~\ 


i86    THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

It  was  for  want,  and  bitter  lack. 
I  give  it  back.  .  .  . 

[He  turns  and  comes  down.  BROTHER  LEO 

receives  it  for  her. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO  approaches,  in  the  same 
manner,  as  a  man  who  does  not  care 
further  what  becomes  of  him ;  the  people 
amazed  all  into  silence. 

VECCHIO  VECCHIO 

[restoring  the  wallet  and  the  silver  image] 
Lady,  ...  I  pray  this  grace  of  you ; 
And  Holy  Joseph's  pardon,  too. 
Lady,  we  could  not  well  suppose  .  .  . 
But  this  is  truth,  God  knows !  — 

[Backs  away,  held  by  the  eyes  of  ASSUNTA 
and  GIUSEPPE,  both  trembling  and  pale. 

FRANCIS 

Yea,  she  that  wears  in  our  dim  sight, 
Our  Lady's  halo,  for  to-night,  — 
Will  she  not  see  with  mother-eyes, 
And  fold  us  all,  —  all  mother-wise, 
In  the  pitying  glory  of  her  light? 

[ASSUNTA,  without  turning  her  head,  slowly 
crosses  her  arms  upon  her  bosom  and  smiles 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    187 

through  her  tears.  GIUSEPPE'S  face  clears 
into  strong  beauty.  They  stand  rapt. 
LEO  and  JUNIPER,  each  with  a  green  branch, 
approach  the  Manger,  and  look  on  it  with 
such  joy  and  devotion,  that  the  CHILDREN 
stretch  up  to  see. 


BIMBA 

[calling'] 

O  Brother  Juniper?  What  do  you  see?  — 
Is  the  Christ  Child  there? 

JUNIPER 

[laying  down  his  greenery  with  awe,  almost 
whispering] 

But  it  may  be  ! 

\_Last,  FRANCIS,  with  illumined  face,  goes  up 
to  the  Manger,  and  stretches  his  arms  out 
over  it  with  rapturous  tenderness;  — as  if 
it  were  to  him  a  bira"s  nest  rather  than 
an  altar. 

FRANCIS 
O,  Nest ! 
Nest  of  all  heart's  desire  ! 


1 88    THE   WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Even  to  thee  the  blinded  birds  go  seeking ; 

Nest  of  all  Love  ! 

O  empty  Nest, — 

Be  filled,  be  filled  with  these,  — 

The   wayworn    sorrows,    thronging,  weeping, 

thronging,  — 

The  lost  compassions,  yea,  the  lack  and  longing 
Without  hearts-ease ! 

Nest  that  nor  man  nor  bird  did  ever  build, 
Be  filled,  be  filled, 
Over,  —  above  — 
All  our  sore  longing, 
All  our  blind  weeping, — 
Hopeless  of  rest ; 

O  Nest  of  the  Light  of  the  World ! 
Thou  Nest. 

THE  PEOPLE 

Noel,  Noel! 

FRANCIS 

Nay,  hark! 

What  heavy  heart  is  yonder  in  the  dark  ? 
[Shading  bis  eyes,  he  steps  down,  looking  to 
wards  THE  WOLF.] 
Lo,  Brother  Wolf! 


THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO    189 

THE  PEOPLE 

\Jookingfor  THE  WOLF  who  is  half  hiding  by  the 
arcade  of  LUCREZIA'S  bouse] 

—  The  Wolf,  the  Wolf? 
....  Then  he  did  not  go  ? 

—  What,  was  it  he  then,  moaning  so? 

—  Look,  is  he  hurt  ?  He  limps, 

No,  No ! 

THE  WOLF 
[in  a  loud  voice] 
Yes,  it's  The  Wolf  .  .  .  of  Gubbio! 

\JELxclamations  of  amazement  show  that  the 
people  have  understood  him  to  speak  in 
words. 

THE  PEOPLE 

Look,  listen! — Did  you  hear? — Did  you 
hear?  - -The  Wolf 's  talking.— The  Wolf's 
speaking.  Is  it  a  dream?  —  No,  No!  Look 
there ! 

— The  Wolf  spoke  out !  — He  spoke  a  word  ! 
We  heard  him  all  —  we  heard  !  We  heard  ! 

LUCREZIA 
The  miracle  of  the  flocks  and  herds  J 


i go    THE    WOLF   OF   GUBBIO 

BIMBO  and  BIMBA 
The  Wolf  is  talking  words  ! 

ALL 
—  The  Wolf  is  talking  words! 

FRANCIS 

Ah,  Brother  Wolf,  thy  heart  was  sore;  — 
We  should  have  welcomed  thee  before. 

Forgive  it,  Brother  mine. 

Whatever  burden  weighs  within  thy  breast, 
Come  hither,  come  ;  yea,  leave  it  at  this  shrine 

That  is  a  nest. 

\^The  by-standers  listen  with  open-mouthed 
amaze  while  THE  WOLF  speaks  in  a  great 
voice  of  grief  . 

THE  WOLF 

Ah,  no.  Lifetime  is  over ;  —  past. 
These  words  I  have,  are  first  and  last. 

[1*0  FRANCIS  with  heart-broken  yearning\ 
With  all  my  thirst  .  .  . 
With  all  my  power,  — 
I  strove  to  linger  out  this  hour.  — 
Since  I  did  live,  for  this  one  day. 


THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO    191 

This  only  day,  when  first,  —  ah,  yes  ! 

I  heard  thy  words  of  loveliness ; 

Out  of  thy  mouth  ;  — 

Out  of  thy  heart, — 

Only  to-day !  — 

I  strove  .  .  .  but  could  not  stay  apart;— 

I  could  not  creep  away. 

O,  I  was  fain  ;  —  but  never  can 

Lift  me  so  far  to  be  a  man  ;  — 

Man  the  one  that  a  Wolf  would  be;  — 

Even  as  thee,  —  even  as  thee! 

Midnight  is  come;  the  bond  is  loose. — 

What  worth  to  me  their  stony  truce  ?  , 

The  peace  is  broken,  and  void  again, 

Betwixt  us  beasts  and  men.  — 

So.  —  Let  them  stone,  and  hunt,  and  spurn  J 

Slay  me  ! —  I  will  not  turn. — 

Only  to  be  forevermore 

'  Wolf-at-the-Door !  —  Wolf-at-the-Door !  V 

I  have  no  will  to  live ;  — 

Let  none  forgive  ! 

All  other  craving  is  gone  by. 

Better  to  die, — than  live  and  be 

Man  without  love;  — 

Better  to  die. 


192   THE    WOLF   OF    GUBBIO 

FRANCIS 

Nay,  Brother  Wolf,  ah,  grieve  not  so ; 
All  was  forgiven. 

THE  WOLF 
[in  anguish"] 

Thou  dost  not  know 

All.  But  thou  shalt;  —  the  one  thing  left: — 
My  gift !  .  .  .  My  theft. 

[He  creeps  towards  ASSUNTA,  who   looks 

back  at  him  bewildered. 
And  thou,  Madonna,  ah,  forgive 
The  one  long  day  I  strove  to  live ! 

0  Lady,  let  my  heart  lie  there, 
Even  with  its  halting  prayer 
Unspoken. 

1  give  you  as  I  may.  —  My  old  wolf's  heart 
...  Is  broken. 

[He   limps   with  lowered  head  into   Lu- 
CREZIA'S  house. 

THE  PEOPLE 

Where  is  he  going  to  ? 

My  way? 

.     .     .     .  Your  way  ? 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    193 

See!  See! 

.     .     .    Old  Lucrezia's  doorway  ! 

Look  at  him  !  —  Into  the  house  unbidden  ! 

What  has  he  hidden?  —  What  has  he  hidden  ? 
\_Reenter  THE  WOLF,  with  the  swaddled 
Babe  in  his  teeth.  He  goes  up  through  the 
crowd  which  parts  before  him,  —  to  As- 
SUNTA, — and  lays  the  Baby  in  the  Manger. 
'The  faces  of  the  parents  show  their 
amazement,  incredulous  hopey  wild  joy ,  as 
they  see  that  it  is  their  own. 

THE  PEOPLE 

—  Miracle  !  —  Miracle  ! —  Holy  Bambino  ! 

—  Mother  of  Mercies  !  — 

Arid  how  could  he  know? 

A  man  —  a  wolf  —  a  man  ! 

—  No,  no  !  — 
Fra  Lupone  !  —  Fra  Lupone !  — 

—  Fra  Lupone  of  Gubbio! 

THE  CHILDREN 
The  Christ  is  found  !  All 's  well ! 


194    THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

THE  KNIGHTS 

.  .  .  Noel,  .  .  .  Noel! 
\Ey-standers    embrace    THE    WOLF,    with 

rapture. 
FRANCIS  picks  up  a  long  green  branch  from 

the  strewings^  and  makes  as  if  he  would 

play  an  invisible  viol  over  his  arm,  singing 

the  while. 
The  Children  gleefully  pick  up  rushes  in  like 

manner ',  and  look  to  him  as  he  calls  aloud 

for  gladness. 

FRANCIS 

Oh,  and  the  very  stars  shall  sing 
For  joy  of  this  glad  thing. 

Lo,  Love  is  born  ! 

Though  we  crown  Him  yet  with  thorns 
Though  we  laugh  Him  all  to  scorns 

Love,  —  Love  is  born  ! 


Curtain. 


THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO    195 
EPILOGUE 

FRANCIS  parts  the  curtains  and  stands  forth, 
shading  his  eyes,  as  if  he  were  still  searching 
the  darkness  beyond  the  tented  place. 

FRANCIS 

And  if  there  be  out  yonder  any  Wolf, 

Or  great  or  small,  behold,  — 
Come,  little   brother  Wolves,  come  in,  come 
hither, 

Out  of  the  cold  ! 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .  S   .  A 


^  >*  TH,  S--H 


3lMar'60Af 

>  i.r 


725002 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


